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Class 7^5d<) iS 
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Copyright N^- 



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COPYRIGHT DEPOSm 



Immortalizing of Texas 

e^ and a^ 

Other Sketches 



By 

LOUIS V. HARVEY 






NEW YORK! 
EVERY WHERE PUBLISHING COMPANY 






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Copyright, 191 1, 

BY 

Louis V. Harvey. 



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ICI.A309129 



The Immortalizing of ^^Texas/^ 

CHAPTER I. 

IT was back in the early 1900's when Behrens — 
"Andy" Behrens, for short, allowing for dig- 
nity — attended art school at Chicago, the 
metropolis of the West. Now Andy was a promi- 
nent fellow at home — at least that's what Pa and 
Ma Behrens maintained, as was perfectly natural, 
and they had their reasons (?). Hadn't Andy grad- 
uated from the high school in his eighteenth year? 
— and that was going some! — Hadn't he clerked in 
Skinner & Dunberg's store two and a half years and 
learned the "art preservative", besides singing in 
the Baptist choir at Jonesville? 

So you see Andy was not so slow. Laying aside 
all punning we will say he had one talent that was 
far ahead of his other qualities, viz., he was a car- 
toonist. Now down in Jonesville, people who could 
draw were a rarity — we might almost say oddity — 
and God knows Andy was odd enough. Suffice it 
to say that every man, woman and child in the vicin- 
ity knew about that; also knew that such cartoons 
as Andy Behrens drew couldn't be found outside 
of picture-galleries: — consequently all decided he 
would have to be an artist. Some illiterate people 
even insinuated that when he was born a lead pen- 
cil was found in the little red hand, but old Doctor 
Armstron, who had officiated upon that occasion, 

1 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF ''TEXAS." 

scowled when the subject was broached, closed his 
left peeper, sent a torrent of tobacco juice into the 
gutter, but said nothing, which behavior on his part 
might have signified something good, then again it 
mightn't. 

By dint of industry young Behrens had learned 
the art of printing, or as much of it as the limited 
facilities of the Jonesville Gazette would allow, and 
in time became a valued asset of the office. After 
a year's painstaking pedagogy Editor Squibbs was 
wont to elucidate on the merits of his trusty appren- 
tice, but really, he should have known better. He 
should have known that an apprenticeship of one 
year was a parody on the art; also that his pupil's 
hat would at once become several sizes too small — 
and the pity of it! 

But, as I said, Squibbs foolishly continued to elu- 
cidate with; an asinine pleasure, and thereby hangs 
this tale. 

Jonesville (insignificant burg) wasn't so far off 
the map but that occasionally a "drummer" would 
become marooned there, and, before leaving, would 
skirmish around and sell something, — in fact had to 
do something to keep from being deranged by the 
loneliness. This failing of the drummers was the 
starting-point of Andy's artistic aspirations, or, more 
properly, hallucinations. 

One warm day in midsummer, when the streets 
were as quiet as a cemetery, broiling and scintillating 
under an August sun, and not even a flea-bitten dog 
strolled across the common, much less a pedestrian 
or a rig, the 10:30 accommodation thundered up to 

2 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF ''TEXASr 

the depot and discharged a let of evil-smelling smoke 
and one lone passenger. The usual crowd of village 
loafers, who generally infested the station, had nar- 
rowed down to old "Dad Bates" who was upwards 
of seventy— a little dried-up product of New Eng- 
land's stony hills— weazened of features but mighty 
spry, and fond of his Missouri meerschaum. Dad 
had 'seen many generations of traveling-men come 
and go, and he knew their ways; but the latent 
arrival seemed just a trifle handsomer, a little better 
dressed and more approachable than any who had 
gone before. Withal, the old scout decided he liked 
the new one's appearance muchly. And you couldn't 
blame him at all, since the latter was good to look 
upon. Martin B. Blossom, representing the Dowdall 
Circulating Library Co., Inc., of Chicago, was indeed 
a "dandy." Tall and broad-shouldered, smooth of 
face, blue of eye, blond of hair and of easy temper- 
ament, was Martin's make-up; when you add to this 
a black tuxedo suit of the latest cut, white waistcoat, 
tan oxfords, two-inch choker and a tie that simply 
screamed — well, you'd swear that he had just 
stepped from a fashion-plate by Leyendecker. 

The fashion-plate sauntered along the platform, 
taking stock of everything in sight, including Dad, 
not unlike a "strong-arm" man looking! for a pros- 
pect. 

"Howdy, Uncle?" said Martin, politely lifting his 
hat, which cost at least $6.00 at wholesale. 

"How de do?" answered Dad, emitting a cloud of 
smoke. "If it's the Borden House ye're lookin' fer, 
stranger, ye'U find it up the street, secon' turn to the 

3 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF ''TEXAS." 

right," and Dad jerked his thumb over his shoulder, 
country style. Martin thanked him and walked 
slowly and elegantly up Main street. Jonesville 
offered nothing new because Martin had been in 
hundreds of similar towns, and the one previous was 
a painful memory — indeed, there were black and 
blue spots in divers places upon his anatomy, and 
particularly upon his conscience, even then where the 
No. Tens of more than one irate Southerner had 
landed in a spirit of malice. Of course that took place 
way down in Kentucky, where the people are a trifle 
hotheaded; at least Martin had abundant reason to 
think so. It seemed he had tried to play Beau Brum- 
mel to the belle of the town whose quota of suitors 
was already large. Her zealous but over-particular 
papa liked the young Lochinvar so well that the 
choicest old wines the house afforded were placed 
hors de combat, so to speak. Papa had corresponded 
with old acquaintances in Chicago, and Holy Smoke 
with what a result! He had unearthed Blossom's 
pedigree, which was bad, and his history which — was 
worse, in fact smelled to heaven — with the afore- 
said result: Beau Brummel made his exit rather 
hastily, not even taking his grip, and "hot footed it" 
to a neighboring swamp until the shades of evening, 
when he silently stole away to the county seat — nine 
miles I think — there boarding a train for Chicago, 
a wiser but sadder man. 

So much for Blossom; "smooth" and "crooked" 
are terms that fit the same handle, and they also 
fitted him; but he had a heart as big as his body, 
for when he drifted into Jonesville, making the 

4 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF ''TEXAS." 

acquaintance of Andrew Behrens, possessed of the 
talent of a Turner, yet drudging along with the com- 
mon herd, sticking type, it made him (Martin) sore. 
He condoled with Andy and bewailed the fate which 
compelled the latter to remain in that one-horse, fly- 
bitten, God-forsaken burg, when the lamp of his 
genius was to illuminate a world of art; Martin 
didn't mention which particular art world he referred 
to — whether the world of the sign-painter or the 
"spotnogger" — ^but this is neither here nor there 
to me. 

In short, when Martin B. left Jonesville some two 
weeks later, he carried in his pocket many fat sub- 
scriptions to the Circulating Library; also pleasant 
memories of pumpkin pies, yellow-legged country 
chickens, home-made butter and layer cakes which 
Mrs. Behrens was noted for preparing; likewise a 
promise to let Andrew come on to Chicago the fol- 
lowing winter to enter the Art Academy, where Blos- 
som assured her artists were made to order, and 
one with exceptional talent could expect to hang his 
pictures with the Society of American Artists inside 
of a year or two! 

Thus doth idle imagination disport itself at the 
expense of innocence, but alas, how different the 
reality! 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF ''TEXAS." 




CHAPTER II. 

""^WAS night in the great city of Chicago, 
and a wet, stormy night at that. The 
winter twilight had fallen early, and fit- 
fully through the sooty air, made a hundred-fold 
worse by the myriads of smoking chimneys, came 
now and then a solitary snowflake, gyrating, zigzag- 
ging to the wet shiny pavements which in places 
were inch-deep with slush. Tens of thousands of 
hurrying, skurrying feet had trod the streets by day 
and by night, for this was the week of the National 
C. N. U. convention, and delegates were present 
from Maine to the Rockies. 

Inside the Illinois Central station the crowd of 
C. N. U.'s and their families were suffocating. The 
big arc lights blinked and snapped, and every five 
minutes a ponderous locomotive dragging a heavy 
train would slowly pull in, stop within a foot of the 
snubbing-post, and there puff and blov/ like a tired 
horse. Then the dense crowd surging over by the 
gate would be pushed back by a squad of special 
police, forming a lane through which the latest arriv- 
als rushed in a packed stream. Above all, the cease- 
less clanging of engine-bells, cries of officers, news- 
boys rushing hither and yon barking the late editions, 
blare of a dozen brass bands and the swelling, rever- 
berating roar of the vast multitude, seemed to shake 
the building to its foundations. 

6 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF ''TEXAS." 

To Andrew Behrens, late of Jonesville, JVlich., the 
scene was little short of Bedlam, for he was being 
pushed, pulle3, jammed and "cathauled" to the 
queen's taste. Suddenly a fat man of enormous 
bulk rolled up against Andy nearly upsetting him, 
but thanks to the slim lady on the! other side — she 
broke the fall. Andy's hat was seriously disturbed 
and assumed a rakish attitude over the right eye. 
Fortunately he regained his equilibrium, clutched his 
suit-case and formed a flying v/edge through the 
gate. The big clock on the wall ahead indicated 
10:30 p. m. Andrew shivered perceptibly; 10:30 
down at Jonesville meant 1 1 o'clock in Chicago, 
and there he was, a lone country duffer, who had 
never before been outside his county, without a 
single acquaintance in that vast city, or friend to 
whom he could turn for advice! 

By this time he had reached the main waiting-room 
and threaded his way to am iron seat, realizing for 
the first time that he was tired and dusty from the 
day's ride — and what was worse — he felt lonesome 
and small — in fact, he hadn't felt quite the same 
since he wore dresses. For a long time his attention 
was drawn to the seething mass of humanity, but 
with little consolation however. Just then some- 
body's umbrella prodded Andy viciously in the side, 
arousing him fromi his reverie, and he noticed that 
the' seat adjacent was occupied by a young lady of 
the butterfly type. Closer inspection revealed a pre- 
ponderance of false hair and face-paint pitifully 
deficient in covering the tell-tale lines of dissipa- 
tion. The once shapely head was topped by an enor- 

7 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF ''TEXAS." 

mous picture-hat — a nightmare of millinery — of 
which the prevailing color was red. She was evi- 
dently in high spirits, for she laughed boisterously 
while conversing with a couple of demi-monde dam- 
sels similarly dressed. 

Presently the umbrella again punctured Andy's 
fifth rib. He was weary, thirsty, and famished, and 
he didn't like it a little bit. 

Turning half around he said sourly, "Say, can't 
you keep that parachute down?" 

The be-switched and painted one gave him a long 
brazen stare which took all the fight out and made 
him wince. Suddenly she burst into a sneering laugh. 
"Just he'r him, gi'ls", she jibed. "Ain't he a red-hot 
baby? Say, kiddie, what pa't of the timb'r do you 
hail f'om?" 

Andrew flushed to his temples, while he struggled 
for words fitting the occasion, but none came. 

The harpy knew she had him at her mercy, and 
was about to utter some more "stingers" when two 
rather hawk-eyed men stepped up and escorted the 
trio away, much to Andrew's relief. As they passed 
down toward the street entrance he fancied he heard 
one of the men say rather authoritatively, " 'Tis all 
up with you,i Mag. I warned you last week to cut 
out this station business. It'll be ninety days sure, 
this time." As for Andrew, he had caught his first 
glimpse of the workings of the great underworld in 
the most immoral city of the United States. 

But Behrens couldn't spend the night on that seat 
and he had scarcely moved for the last half hour. 
Already the station-detectives had marked him, and 

8 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF ''TEXASr 

wondered if this was just another case of a man 
stranded in transit. Andy had procured the address 
of a rooming-house on Washington Boulevard where 
he wished to stop, and when he told the pompous 
official at the "information bureau" in the corner of 
the waiting-room, even that urbane gentleman looked 
surprised. 

"Why, man!" he said, "That's way over on the 
West Side, beyond the Ghetto. It's' all of four 
miles." Andy's face fell, for four miles down at 
Jonesville was a good ways to walk, and he hadn't 
thought of the street-cars. Seeing his disappoint- 
ment, the official continued in a kinder tone, "I see 
you are a stranger here; better be careful. How- 
ever, it's easy — Go down Michigan to Madison, walk 
two blocks to State and take Madison cable going 
west — gQt off at Bishop's Court." If the man had 
thrown a passage from the Koran at him Andy would 
probably have been more enlightened. "Go down 
Michigan to Madison, walk two blocks to State." 
Andy remembered that, but the remainder was a 
muddle; in less than five minutes he couldn't for his 
life remember whether it was "Take Madison to 
Cable" or "Cable to Madison." So he stood gawk- 
ing at the great marble pillars for a period, then 
dragged his weary body to the entrance and out on 
Michigan Avenue, resplendent in the early winter 
night with electric illuminations — the Champs Elysees 
of the city. 

A half-hour later the cable car dragged, snail-like, 
westward on Madison, with little fits and starts, 
squeaking, rasping, roaring along through the slimy 

9 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF ''TEXASr 

Washington street tunnel, sweeping jerkily around 
corners, and finally emerged onto Madison again, in 
the heart of the Ghetto district, stinking with cheap 
barrel houses, filthy beaneries and brothels. The 
pavement was literally crowded with representatives 
of every clime, from sunny Italian vineyards to the 
icy shores of the Baltic; and: at the corners, hang- 
ing about chop-houses and low saloons, gangs of 
poorly-dressed, lowbrowed men jabbered in every 
language under the sun, leering at the female 
passers-by and frequently engaging in wordy argu- 
ments punctuated with an odor of stale beer and 
rotten fish. At intervals of a few feet, facing the 
sidewalk, were stationed the two-wheeled push-carts 
of hucksers, ice-cream dealers and venders of hot 
peanuts. 

As the car moved along Andy saw all these things 
sleepily. Numerous ragged and filthy urchins with 
papers clasped under their cold blue hands hopped 
nimbly on at the crossings and off again, vociferat- 
ing loudly " 'Xaminer here? Uxtree, Record-Her- 
ald, Tribune. Uxtree here?'' 

A couple of days later we find our friend, Behrens, 
stalking up Madison with the determined appearance 
of a seasoned globe-trotter. The maze of streets, 
the tangle of car lines, had no more terrors for him. 
Andrew Behrens had laid aside the mantle of rustic- 
ity, the garb of rurality, and taken on the' hustling 
pessimistic air of one reared in the second flat at 

No. Lake Shore Drive. That day we found 

him gazing fondly at the Polar bears and Grizzlies 
in the Lincoln Park Zoo, or wrapped in a brown 

10 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF ''TEXAS," 

study before the bronze effigy of the great Emanci- 
pator at the entrance. Perchance the ponderous 
Ferris-wheel, revolving slowly and protestingly with 
the rheumatic groans of old age, lured him, for once 
seated in the rising car Andrew forgot Jonesville — 
forgot the choir — forgot everything as he gazed out 
over the spreading panorama of smoking chimneys, 
high buildings and ever-busy trade marts. As the 
mammoth circle arose higher and still higher, off in 
the south-east quarter he fancied he saw the shores 
of his beloved Michigan, lapped by the Lake's cold 
blue waves. 

At the Art Academy Prof. Sylvanus Hopkinson 
Dupre welcomed him with the quiet easy grace 
which years of experience had taught. Andrew 
found the office of the school on the seventh 
floor; commonplace enough and business-like it 
seemed. 

"Glad to see you, Mr. Behrens," said Prof. Dupre, 
extending a plump, flabby hand. "Make yourself at 
home. You'll find my school is not a hot-bed of 
snobbery like a certain other in the city. We don't 
take in any rakes here," and he smiled artistically; 
meantime "sizing up" his pupil-to-be with care, a 
process which included Andrew's wilted collar, 
leather watch-fob and dusty shoes. Surely the latter 
couldn't come into the ostracised class mentioned. 

Sylvanus Hopkinson Dupre stood jiist four-feet- 
ten in his stockings, with an avoirdupois of 180 
pounds, and he had a little round head on his trunk 
like a bullet on a potato, steel-gray eyes set far 
apart, and a nervous manner. Your casual observa- 

U 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF ''TEXAS:' 

tion would be that he was tremendously artistic but 
appallingly modest, and something unseen whis- 
pered as much to Behrens. 

"Now Mr. Behrens, may I ask what you have done 
in the line of art work? Let me examine some of 
your drawings," continued Dupre; turning to his 
desk apparently satisfied with the diagnosis. 

"The fact is, Mr. Dupre, I left them in my room 
but I'll bring them later" confessed Andrew rather 
lamely. "You see, I didn't expect to start in school 
for a few days." 

"Suit yourself, suit yourself. By the way, let me 
show you about. School is out for the day, but you 
must see the drawings on the wall. It might be well 
for me to explain our methods, and you can ques- 
tion me later if you wish." So saying he closed the 
desk with a snap and Andrew followed him through a 
sort of entry extending twenty feet, at the farther 
end of which a thick oaken door swung inward, and 
seemingly as an extra precaution, a heavy baize cur- 
tain screened the entrance. What Andrew had 
expected to see was a room of exquisite cleanliness, 
hung with rich hand-painted tapestry, decked with 
marble statues and stained-glass windows. Imagine 
then his surprise when pushing aside the curtain, 
which was dark with age, they emerged into an 
apartment fetid with the odor of tobacco smoke and 
wood alcohol. The windows were few, lighting the 
studio insufficiently and fogged with the accumula- 
tions of years; floors sooty and black with crayon 
and pencil litter. Overhead a skylight covered half 
the room and was as dirty as the windows, while a 

12 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF ''TEXAS." 

black cloth fluttered outside with the winter winds — • 
gloomy prospect indeed for a man who was to hang 
his pictures with the Society of American Artists 
two years hence! 

In the center of the rather large room was a ros- 
trum perhaps thirty inches higher than the surround- 
ing floor and encircling this were one hundred, more 
or less, low easels of the cheapest construction, 
standing stiffly in rows and each over the signature 
of the owner chalked neatly on the floor. To say 
that Andrew was surprised would be putting it too 
lightly; to say dumbfounded would be too weak; 
flabbergasted is nearer the correct definition. 

Here was A. Behrens, late of Jonesville, Mich., 
cartoonist, who, having come a hundred miles — all 
alone — to study the sublime art, the wonderful delin- 
eation of nature's beauties, descendant of Artemus 
Behrens, who fought with Gen, Greene at the Cow- 
pens and was wounded in the back, here was the 
great and only A. Behrens come to study drawing 
and perspective in a dirty ill-smelling old school of 
antiquity. Bosh! Abase the thought! He was get- 
ting sicker of Chicago every minute. Thusly and 
more thusly did Andrew deliberate. 

Prof. Sylvanus H. must have seen the change of 
countenance, for he got busy at once with a great 
pile of portfolios next the wall. High up in the heap 
he extracted a rusty one, and leading the way to a 
window proceeded to show its contents. 

"Here is the work of a student who has been with 
us not quite three years. As you perceive, his stuff 
is mostly charcoal and 'wash'. This man has work 

13 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF "TEXAS." 

upon the wall now, so you see what a clever stu- 
dent can do. Let me advise you, Mr. Behrens, by all 
means stick to your drawing; whether you take 
wash, charcoal, or oils." Dupre brought to light a 
collection of drawings in nude and costume which 
smelled like Dr. Armstron's medicine-case, but Ye 
•Gods! Such exquisite, ethereal, willowy, female 
shapes; such muscular Adonis'; such chic costumes 
draped on forms of perfect contour. 

Andrew's artistic blood was up now; his fingers 
itched for a pencil. In a word, he was as blind to 
his surroundings as though hypnotized, and when he 
parted with Prof. Sylvanus Hopkinson Dupre after 
a sumptuous supper at Cafe De Jonje, he was doing 
a heavy stunt at artistic mathematics. A few days 
hence our Jonesvillian found himself a bona fide 
student, and as such was duly introduced to his fel- 
low-workers. 

He tried to enumerate them that night, but fell 
down miserably and gave it up, sinking into a 
drowse only to be awakened by the sullen roar of 
the cable over on Madison. Then he tried it again: 
there was Boundey, the tall silent fellow who worked 
incessantly and said nothing; there was Black who 
worked incessantly also, but wasn't silent, chattering 
like a magpie while he splotched in the highlights; 
there was Hufer, the Dutchman, round of belly and 
smooth of face, whose drawing was as round as his 
belly, and he'd snap your head off if you as much 
as asked the loan of, a rubber (Hufer was an 
old timer) ; there was DeLancey, of Kentucky, who 
must have sprung from the moonshine district of 

14 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF ''TEXAS." 

the hills, because he always carried a bottle of "old 
red eye"; his hair was yellow and complexion like 
snuff, (but say, that fellow was foxy with the brush !) 
Let me further describe him: Six-feet-two stood 
DeLancey in his "socks" ; built like a Swede; loose- 
jointed and raw-boned, he walked with a shuffle as 
if his pedals were heavy. Habitually he wore a sack 
coat cut much too short for his lengthy frame, while 
his limbs were encased in breeches of antique design, 
wide of seat and baggy, but extremely small at the 
ankles. His knees, by reason of their great distance 
from the floor, were exceedingly amorous, and 
caressed each other with a rasping sound as their 
owner walked, DeLancey was the butt of many a 
joke, rather slyly we must admit, since he had 
severely pummeled the little portrait-painter, Oak- 
ley, for calling him "Hill Billy." 

Then there was Pushka, the Armenian, that fierce, 
gesticulating, spluttering, enthusiastic little foreigner 
who always "hogged" the best position after the 
model was posed. He was brown as an Italian and 
quick as a cat, with curly hair always long and 
neatly combed. Pushka's snapping black eyes were 
always shifting as though expecting a Turk to bob 
up ; his nose was hooked, overlooking the most dev- 
ilish curled-up black mustache and goatee you ever 
saw. 

"O, ze modale iss zo exquizette ziss morning," he 
would say. "I haf not zee skeel zu baint ze bee-uti- 
ful laty; ze composzitione, zee colare zis magneefi- 
cent. Pardon, Mionsieur," then he'd poke the fellow 
in front with his rest-stick, "would zee Monsieur 

15 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF "TEXAS." 

kindly move zush leedle beet to ze right. Ze modale 
iss not plain." 

Thus he cajoled, butted in and criticised, day in 
and day out, until every man in the Academy was 
lined up with a solemn pledge to turn his beastly 
little carcass wrong! side out some fine day and drop 
it into the alley below. 

"Genteelmen, I baint sax yare in zee Andrickhen 
at Vienna before I come to zis countra, and zee pro- 
fesares teach me zee true preencepul. Zee Mon- 
sieur very bad in zee technique; he baint only zee 
dead figure. Zee Monsieur much betare baint zee 
sign of zee Quaker Oats," Pushka was heard to say 
one day to the big Southerner who had painted 
three years under the brush name of "Texas." Texas 
turned half around on his stool and placed a mam- 
moth hairy hand on the cringing shoulder of the 
Armenian, none too lightly mind you, while he 
calmly laid down his palette and brushes. 

"You little soup-eating runt!" then Texas gripped 
the shoulder till the bones snapped and Pushka 
doubled up like a jack-knife. "You little warty frog, 
if you pester me again: with your high-browed criti- 
cisms, I'll skin you alive!" And by way of empha- 
sis he slammed the Armenian against the wall with 
force enough to break every bone in his body. One 
of the lady students emitted a scream of fright, but 
Pushka picked up his palette and easel and retired 
looking as black as Erebus. After this everything 
rar^ along smoothly at the school — ^minus the high- 
browed criticism however — for several days. 

Nobody said anything to Texas about the episode, 

16 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF ''TEXAS." 

nor did anyone evince enough interest in the Arme- 
nian to inquire why he did not again appear for 
many days. Everybody knew that as surely as night 
follows day the grand finals were yet to come; 
some day, somewhere, bloody vengeance would be 
wreaked. It got on the nerves of the whole student 
body, including the chic little model, Sheila, who 
fidgeted and cast apprehensive glances toward the 
door. The result was, that drawings were "rotten", 
instructors sour, the charcoal was hard — in short the 
whole machinery of the school was out of gear. The 
female contingent with whom he was very popular 
sympathized deeply with Texas, but they might as 
well have spared the trouble, for he was just as calm 
as before; just as lackadaisical about his drawing — ■ 
a light-hearted, big-souled, guileless and bronzed 
athlete of the bayous. At the Texas University he 
had won the all-around medals and played the 
League's center. Andrew's admiration for Texas 
was secondary only to his desire to draw, and 
almost from the beginning the two became fast 
friends. 

Texas, though faultlessly attired at all times, 
never seemed to notice the seedy clothes of his 
friend from Michigan — just the quality that makes 
men highly popular at an art school. He had money 
"to burn" and seemed to delight in parting with it. 
Such an extravagance as a box at the Iroquois for 
himself and friends, twenty-five-dollar suppers at 
Cafe De Jonje for the party, with plenty of liquid 
refreshments thrown in, seemed little short of mad- 
ness to Andrew, whose meager purse was limited to 

17 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF ''TEXASr 

board and lodging and a gallery ticket once a month, 
and when the latter protested at being "toted", Texas 
slapped him on the back and said raucously, "Cheer 
up, old man, that fault-finding is something I posi- 
tively can't endure, so come along and help me 
spend this filthy lucre because there is more on the 
dresser." 

And that wasn't all: when poor consumptive Bur- 
nett, who had worked so hard to win the Meyer-Both 
prize, failed miserably because he was assigned 
a position squarely at the model's side with the arm 
pointing straight at him, hadn't Texas reached out 
to "shake," the day after the contest closed and left 
in Burnett's thin palm a shining double eagle? No 
wonder Andrew admired Texas — so did every one 
except — Pushka, and when that individual appeared 
again his general deportment was much the same. 
The old sang froid had not deserted him ; the model 
was just as pleasing, his position always satisfactory, 
but it was noticeable that Pushka kept away from 
Texas. If Texas chose a front view Pushka chose a 
rear one and vice versa, so it seemed that for a time 
at least all unpleasantness would be banished. 

One Monday morning the Armenian came on the 
scene early, for a new model was to be posed. 
Texas had chalked his position — a quartering view — 
very desirable on account of the dull light, the day 
before. Boundey, who was acting as temporary jani- 
tor, was surprised to see Pushka walk over and 
coolly erase Texas' name, substituting his own. The 
easels he also changed. A half-hour later the model 
had been posed, and save for the rasping of char- 
ts 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF ''TEXAS." 

coal and swish of rubber the room was quiet. Texas 
came in late, hardly noticed by any one, passed 
around examining the different drawings, and stopped 
to chaff Andrew a moment about the technique of 
his "wash", suggesting a "box of highlights". 
Pushka worked on, not as much as glancing up. 
Texas walked calmly behind the Armenian, seized 
him by the coat-collar and lifted him bodily off the 
floor. There Pushka hung like a gigantic spider, 
arms and legs gyrating like a windmill, cursing like 
a demon. There was a general exodus from the 
vicinity, stools and easels being overturned in the 
melee. Just then Prof. Dupre came ramping from 
the office and sought to reach the combatants, but in 
the confusion he might as well have tried to stem 
the whirlpool rapids. There were cries of "Soak 
him, soak him, Texas^" "Druh the rat," "Bust his 
composition," etc. What really happened, was, the 
fighting, cursing Armenian was carried at arm's 
length out through the office into the hall. Here 
Texas held him suspended over the elevator-shaft 
with reckless abandon, but changed his mind and 
kicked the foreigner's middle soundly instead, finally 
winding up by chucking the now thoroughly-subdued 
Pushka head-first into a big waste-basket which 
stood nearby, half filled with litter from the studio. 
It is needless to say the school adjourned for that 
day. Pushka went away with terrible maledictions on 
the head of the "Yankee pig", and Texas was called 
on the carpet by the Prof., with the alternative of a 
heavy fine and no privileges for a month, or dis- 
missal. Of course he chose the fine, and paid it 

19 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF ''TEXAS." 

forthwith — that is, he went through the irtodus oper- 
andi, with a purse which the fellows donated. 

The next morning at 9:30 there came a knock at 
the door of Texas' apartments in the Fine Arts 
Building, and when he answered cheerfully "come 
in", he was surprised to see no others than Theo. 
Valdeck and another Armenian merchant, both prom- 
inent rug-dealers down on Adams street. Valdeck 
had been in America long enough to speak pretty 
good English, while his companion could not. 

They plunged into the gist of the matter at once, 
or at least Valdeck did, by saying: "Monsieur Texas 
will excuse this early morning call I am sure and 
allow me to introduce my friend, Salvator Pushka," 
and Valdeck bowed low, first to Salvator then to 
Texas. 

"Glad to see you, gentlemen," said Texas, with his 
most genial smile, at the same time giving to each 
the glad hand. "Sit down and allow me to offer you, 
gentlemen, a cigarette," but Valdeck waved him 
aside. 

"Pardon, Monsieur, but we understand ze gentle- 
man had a slight misunderstanding yesterday with 
Monsieur Pushka's brother." Here Salvator raised 
both hands, palms outward, with a deprecating ges- 
ture and mumbled something in his na4:ive tongue. 
Valdeck resumed, "Ze gentleman doubtless would 
desire the matter settled at once, and Monsieur 
Pushka wishes me to present this card to his antag- 
onist with his compliments." Salvator arose politely 
and bowed low as Valdeck fished from his pocket a 
small glossy card bearing Pushka's signature, and in 

20 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF ''TEXAS." 

the comer a symbolic figure of twin rapiers crossed, 
which he handed to Texas rather gingerly. 

For the first time it dawned upon the Southerner 
what the real errand of the visitors was, and he 
found it extremely hard to suppress a laugh. It was 
evident that the little "toad" whom he had operated 
upon the day before, wished a meeting on the field 
of honor that he might try conclusions with weap- 
ons. The ludicrousness of the situation stung Texas* 
funny-bone so hard he actually did explode. Through 
this the two Armenians maintained a dignified 
silence, but with lowering brows. When Texas had 
recovered sufficiently to talk he said: "Well, Mr. 
Valdeck, I am beginning to get you, so to speak. 
You wish to inform me that the Hon. Pushka begs 
the delicious privilege of puncturing my liver at any 
convenient time on the field of honor, leastways, to 
see who buys the drinks,"and Texas went off into 
another paroxysm more violent than before. 

"Monsieur makes large joke of this matter" said 
Valdeck acridly, "but I can scarcely see ze point for 
such a pun. Monsieur will recollect that we Arme- 
nians do not freely forgive wanton insults. Pushka 
came home yesterday in great commotion of mind, 
swearing by the beard of his father that the "Yankee 
pig" should bite the dust. He has already partici- 
pated in five different affairs, but probably ze Mon- 
sieur is not aware of this, nor is he aware Pushka 
is cunning with ze rapier and poniard." 

"Well, go at once and inform your principal that 
I shall be more than glad to satisfy his thirst for 
American blood at 4:30 a. m., on Wednesday a week 

21 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF ''TEXAS." 

hence, and he can choose the place where he prefers 
to pass up his checks. I would suggest to his brother 
here that he bring along a skillful surgeon, because 
I shall do a thorough job and there will undoubt- 
edly be a grievous fracture to reduce; I also sug- 
gest, if he has no objections, that we meet in Jack- 
son Park, fifty paces south of the old Art Museum, 
because the landscape there is good to look upon, 
and I want a harmonious composition in the group- 
ing of the picture; but let him remember that I am 
the challenged party, and as such I shall designate 
the weapons," said Texas, nonchalantly screwing up 
his face precisely as if he were arranging the set- 
tings for a salon picture, and his antagonist were to 
be his model. 

Thus, with much bickering, was the affair 
arranged; after which he bowed the two Armenians 
to the elevator and saw them drop, with another 
spasm of laughter which lasted until Andrew called 
a couple of hours later. After discussing the likeli- 
hood of getting on the wall that quarter, and various 
other topics, Texas quite casually mentioned that 
he had received an invitation to a killing from 
Pushka. 

Andrew went white and red by turns as h© 
listened. 

'"^ell, old man, I guess your goose is cooked 
now," he blurted out. ^'Didn't you know that Pushka 
had killed five men in duals? Not only that, but he 
is reckoned the surest shot and the most expert 
swordsman in the city; he'll rip you open, sure," 
and Andrew worked himself into a frenzy as he 

22 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF "TEXAS." 

talked. "My God, Texas, you musn't meet that mur- 
derer. Don't you do it. His bloodthirsty gang will 
spit you anyhow, if you should win out," and Andrew 
walked the floor nervously^ to and fro, almost wring- 
ing his hands. "What are you going to do?" 

During this harangue Texas had lit his ever- 
solacing pipe and puffed away in a dense cloud for 
a period of three minutes. The smile did not fade, 
the color of his face didn't blanch, much to Andrew's 
surprise. Finally he ventured the remark, "Nothing 
of the kind, you silly kid. Don't get so nervous. 
Not so fast. You forget it falls upon me to choose 
the weapons. Of course I shall not select swords 
or guns, but most certainly I shall give the rat a sur- 
prise. My favorite weapons are baseballs and you 
must be my second. Tomorrow morning you shall 
arrange the details with Valdeck. Tell him its balls 
at fifteen paces. That's about all I care. The other 
preliminaries leave to him." Andrew had a strong 
inclination to give his friend the horse-laugh and 
tried to chaff him, but Texas would listen to nothing 
further concerning the matter, and insisted on dis- 
cussing the model's fine points. When they parted, 
he extended a cordial invitation to attend "Mr. Blue- 
beard" at the Iroquois that evening, which was not 
refused. 

Valdeck received the details of the coming contest 
with great astonishment. The ludicrousness of such 
weapons got him going. Who ever heard of using 
baseballs to fight duals with? He vociferated loudly 
that the Yankees were trying to tease them. 
"Surely Monsieur did not mean that they should face 

23 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF "TEXAS." 

each other armed with nothing but harmless little 
hogskin-covered spheres?" 

Andrew assured him that such indeed had been 
the decision of his principal; furthermore, both men 
would have to submit to a search by each other's 
seconds, who would see to it that no other weapons 
were concealed. 

Now Texas' chief hobby was the collection of 
baseballs, and he had a great variety, every blessed 
one of which had a history. He used to get the 
fever occasionally and show them to his friends, 
much as a farmer would exhibit a mammoth vege- 
table of his own raising. The balls were kept in a 
box neatly divided into apartments, and every ball's 
cover was a maze of dates and incidents inscribed 
neatly in ink, not unlike the exhibits in some 
museum. 

"This ball," he would say, "we used when we 
played the Arkansas Tigers. I was feeling fine as 
a fiddle that day and could put them over in great 
style, but our team was in bad. Our fielders couldn't 
pick 'em up; the catcher didn't seem to have the 
snap necessary to catch the runners on second, and 
our batting was 'rotten'. 'Twas the seventh inning 
and the score stood 1 and 5 in favor of the Tigers. 
They had two men on bases. I gave the batter a 
red-hot drop and he couldn't find it, but kept on 
cutting chunks out of the atmosphere and fanned. 
I was pretty busy watching the man on second and 
couldn't do much with the next man up. So it went, 
until the first half of the ninth, when we made a 
triple play, ran in seven scores and saved the' game. 

24 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF 'TEXAS." 

"That was a great day for, us, so great we could 
not hold down the record, and got walloped every 
other game during the series. 

"And this one I used when 'Muggsy' McGraw, the 
plucky umpire of the Louisiana Roughs, got beaten 
up for calling Hemans out on second, when the 
score stood 3 and 3," and thus he'd ramble on in a 
reminiscent mood until the fellows really adored 
him as a hero, and no one could understand why 
Texas cared to toil day after day for the meager 
reward of a drawing on the wall, or perchance hon- 
orable mention at the end of the year. Verily he 
was a comedy of contradictions. 

From his precious collections he selected four of 
the whitest and newest, and bade Andrew pack them 
securely in batting in a cigar-box, which he secreted 
in the latter's locker at school. Not a word about 
his plans did he pass to Andrew, until the forenoon 
of the day before the dual, when they talked the 
matter over. Texas inquired if Andrew carried a 
gun, to which the latter answered "No". Just as 
they were passing down in the elevator, Texas 
silently and deftly handed a 38-caIibre bulldog 
to his chum, while the elevator boy's back was 
turned. 

They had previously agreed to meet at the comer 
of Madison andj State at 1 :30 that evening, so as to 
hit the last car south before 5:30 a. m., that being 
the hour of meeting Pushka. Texas carried a small 
square black grip, and Andrew the box containing 
the balls. The conductor glanced sharply at the two 
figures muffled up to their chins in long overcoats, 

25 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF "TEXAS." 

and wearing slouch hats. Few passengers were on 
the car at that time, and after leaving 25th street 
they bowled along rapidly with few stops. The night 
was dark and stormy; every time the front door was 
opened, a deluge of snowflakes came blustering in, 
much to the discomfort of passengers. The whole 
setting of the scene got on Andrew's nerves; so 
much so that he could not resist the temptation of 
turning in the seat to look behind. On the rear 
seat lounged two or three half-intoxicated "sports" 
dressed in the height of fashion, but their tall silk 
hats showed numerous dents and hard usage; they 
were probably returning from the "red light" dis- 
trict. Each gripped a half-smoked cigar in his 
maudlin mouth, and tried feebly to warble "Hiawa- 
tha." By the door the conductor watched his charges 
and bawled the streets hoarsely. 

Here and there through the storm the corner lights 
gleamed out sharply into the night; hacks rumbled 
swiftly over the crossings and passed into the sheen 
of light for an instant, then disappeared in the black- 
ness beyond. As the car swung into Cottage Grove 
Avenue all signs of life ceased save for the passing 
of an occasional north-bound car. Through this once 
important World's Fair inlet the car tore along at 
top speed. "Fiftysecond Street!" the conductor sang 
out. 

Andrew and Texas were in a half doze, and this 
unexpected arrival at their destination caused a 
rather creepy sensation in the region of their spines, 
but hastily regaining their equilibrium they sought 
the park entrance, passing on up the avenue which 

26 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF ''TEXAS," 

had conducted untold thousands during the summer 
of '93. 

For the second time since his arrival in the city 
Andrew now experienced that wobbly-kneed sensa- 
tion, something akin to what the lone small boy feels 
when passing a cemetery in the dark. 

Texas broke the ghostly silence by whacking the 
back of the trembling and dejected Andrew and 
saying with a laugh, "Well, old boy, how does it feel 
to be in a real sure-enough dual? What, you're not 
feeling weak-kneed are you?" But Andrew said 
nothing. "Cheer up, it's not so bad after all. This 
will be a bloodless fight. By the way, have you got 
your gun?" • 

"Sure", said Andrew, plunging his hand a little 
deeper into his overcoat pocket, where he gripped a 
S8-bulldog. In fact, he had been gripping it ever 
since they pulled away from 25th street. "I've got 
the gun and the balls too, but I don't see what's to 
prevent those sneaking foreigners creeping up on 
us out here and assassinating us in cold blood." 
Andrew was beginning to experience that despicable 
stage-fright again, and his teeth chattered percep- 
tibly, — but it might have been chills, of course. 

The storm had now ceased, leaving the earth with 
a beautiful mantle of white, stretching out in all 
directions, from which tree boles sprang in dark 
twisted shapes. Way up ahead the Museum Build- 
ing's massive dome showed black against the rapidly- 
clearing winter skies. Texas pulled out his watch; 
it indicated 4:30. 

"Well, I guess we are on tick all right, and as we 

27 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF "TEXAS," 

have about an hour to wait, we'll just go up here in 
the port-cochere of the building and have a smoke," 
said Texas. Suiting the action to the words, he filled 
a generous pipe and puffed away like a hoisting- 
engine. Seating himself on a ledge, he assumed an 
easy attitude. "Say, this is an artistic setting, sure! 
See that composition," he explained, pointing lake- 
ward, where a dark blue hazy line met the lowering 
skies. "There's a splendid winter scene with the 
moon just breaking through, a rift in ashy-grey 
clouds, the great bulk of the Museum Building tower- 
ing aloft to the right. Then there are the bony skele- 
tons of the oaks; something beautifully artistic in 
those tangled twigs against a moonlit sky." From 
his conversation one would have thought he were 
discussing a painting in the gallery, instead of shiv- 
ering out there on the lake-front, awaiting a painful 
uncertainty. 

I'll have to confess to you that Andrew, for once, 
could see nothing artistic either in the surroundings 
or Texas' conversation. The landscape looked very 
cold and forbidding and commonplace to the lad from 
Jonesville. He was also cold and homesick and 
heartsick, in short, disgusted with the whole blooming 
business, and wished himself well out of it. Texas 
might rave about the beauties of winter an'H the com- 
position of pictures, for aught he cared: as for him- 
self, he was too busy watching the black shapes 
roundabout, expecting every minute to see a muffled 
figure step into range and open fire. Andrew also 
conjectured vividly as to how he would look lying 
stiff on the slab at the morgue, an object of curiosity 

28 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF "TEXAS." 

to visitors, who perchance would note the ragged 
hole in his head, and remark how well that little 
leaden pellet had done the business. He saw the 
Daily Examiner being hawked by the newsies who 
shouted shrilly, '"Zaminer here; all about the two 
art-students murdered in Jackson Park this morning. 
Thought to be spite work by the vendetta." 

Texas, after several efforts to enliven the conver- 
sation, gave it up and smoked in silence. Already 
the rosy tints of dawn were penciling the sky next, 
the blue-black water, and afar, the swelling city traf- 
fic came down the early morning air. Somewhere 
out on the river, a barge-siren bellowed hoarsely. 
Simultaneously, a hack, driven at a swift trot, ap- 
proached from the street, and our friends at once 
sat up and took notice, meeting the equipage at the 
corner of the building. As it drew up, three figures 
dismounted quickly, followed by a short heavy-set 
individual. At a sign from the short individual, the 
driver turned his team and drove out as he had 
come. 

"Been waiting for some time, gentlemen," said 
Texas pleasantly. The spokesman of the party sim- 
ply returned the salutation, that was all. The party 
was composed of Pushka, Salvator, his brother, Theo. 
Valdeck, and a personage with a medicine-case, evi- 
dently a physician. After exchanging greetings, 
Texas explained that Andrew would be pleased to 
arrange details with Valdeck, while Pushka retired, 
sullenly, a little distance and removed his great coat. 
When the two seconds had measured fifteen paces, 
the principals took their positions promptly, and 

29 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF ''TEXAS:* 

Andrew stepped forward with the box of balls, from 
which Pushka gingerly selected two, and Texas like- 
wise. 

"Now, gentlemen, you understand that according 
to my arrangement with Valdeck, you are to be 
searched for possible weapons other than you hold 
in your hands," said Andrew. This only occupied a 
minute. Andrew gave Pushka an overhauling, and 
extracted from his clothes a jack-knife, two pipes, 
and a handful of matches, while Valdeck was re- 
warded by recovering a match-box only, Texas hav- 
ing surrendered his revolver to Andrew previously. 

Andrew flashed a 38 bulldog in each hand while 
he talked. "Gentlemen, are you ready? Mr. Val- 
deck and myself have agreed that I shall count one, 
two, three, four, and so on up to ten, and during that 
time you are to deliver your balls. If one or the 
other is struck by the first ball thrown, he has the 
privilege of delivering both balls if he is able, and 
if one party falls at the first ball, the other party 
must not deliver the last ball on peril of his life;" 
and to emphasize his point, Andrew drew a bead on 
both principals. Pushka winced and jumped side- 
wise. 

At the words "one, two, three," Pushka delivered 
the first ball; but he was nervous, and though he 
threw deliberately, missed by two inches. The ball 
sped on, and striking a tree directly in line, glanced 
off and bounded into a clump of bushes. At that he 
became agitated, his face paled perceptibly as he 
watched Texas standing like a rock. The latter put 
on that dangerously calm look which he could 

30 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF ''TEXAS." 

assume on certain occasions, but he had not even 
removed the pipe from his mouth. Again Pushka 
took careful aim and delivered, but the result was 
even worse than before. 

Now it was high time for Texas to get busy, which 
he did, as he gripped the pigskin pellet and spat 
upon it. Directly, his husky right arm proceeded to 
wind up, the right foot was lifted high, and the ball 
shot out, fairly zipping through the air in a beautiful 
upshoot curve which caught the ppint of Pushka's chin. 
Undoubtedly the latter had expected to do some foxy 
dodging, but he might as well have tried to dodge 
a cannon-ball. There was a snap of broken bones, 
and the Armenian collapsed like an egg-shell, going 
down in a heap. Valdeck and the surgeon adminis- 
tered stimulants and carried their man to the hack 
which had appeared from somewhere, the door 
slammed shut with a "bang," the driver cracked his 
whip over the horses' backs, and the party drove at 
break-neck speed to the entrance of 52nd street, 
where they disappeared. It all happened so quickly 
that Andrew hardly had time to pocket his guns. 

"The Armenian is settled for a time, at least," said 
Texas, as he struck a match. "Ha, ha, but I think 
the M. D. will find a compound fracture there, don't 
you?" he added. 

"By the great horn spoon!"— this was a favorite 
adjuration with him — "but I did think Pushka could 
put a ball to first better than that, didn't you 
now?" he rattled on, as enthusiastic as a schoolboy, 
meanwhile brushing the snow from his coat and don- 
ning the same. Suddenly a thought struck Texas 

31 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF ''TEXAS*' 

forcibly, and it was funny to see how quickly his 
happy schoolboy expression changed to one of the 
deepest concern. 

"By the great horn spoon !" he repeated excitedly. 
"Did you notice where those balls went? We must 
find those balls at any cost." And would you believe 
it? — that beastly cad kept Andrew there breakfast- 
less until eight o'clock searching for his measly base- 
halls! 

In a roundabout way they returned to school, and 
what Andrew said to him that morning en route is 
not fit for publication, so you can guess it if you 
wish. 

After a few days they heard that the Armenian 
suffered a dislocated jaw, which would require 
months to heal, but where he went they never knew, 
as the Academy saw him no more. After the ball 
episode Texas* popularity increased fifty per cent., 
and that is saying a good deal. However, be that as 
It may, Andrew could not think the matter closed on 
Pushka's part, nor does he doubt to-day that if 
Texas had survived that awful holocaust which came 
later, but that vengeance would have terminated his 
career at some unexpected time or place. 

It was the 30th of December — two days before 
New Year's — that our worthy friends, Texas and 
Andrew, sat in the great auditorium of the magnifi- 
cent Iroquois theatre, and it is safe to wager that 
they were caring little, or thinking not at all, of the 
dual or anything else except the afternoon matinee, 
"Mr. Bluebeard," which was then having a very pop- 
ular run. Back and above them the tier on tier of 

32 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF "TEXAS." 

galleries was a mass of packed humanity, women 
and children predominating — ^the elite of Chicago — 
as is always the case at 2:30 matinees. 

There was a confused humming up in the balco- 
nies, and a murmur in the vast auditorium. Sud- 
denly the lights were turned on full, and the orches- 
tra struck up. All was mirth and cheer, for was 
not "Mr. Bluebeard" the most popular of Klaw & 
Erlanger's productions? Was not the beautiful new 
Iroquois the most modern fire-proof structure in the 
city? Who cared if the harping critics did cavil at 
the management for opening the house before it was 
completed? Who cared if the fire-apparatus was 
inadequate? On with the play! Let joy be uncon- 
fined! Over in the main aisle were several uni- 
formed firemen and ushers who stood ready to 
do the public will, and whose eagle eyes noted every 
light in close proximity to the curtain. Surely every 
precaution had been taken for the safety of the 
thousands. 

Notwithstanding all these attaches were trained to 
the work, when that awful night fell there was uni- 
versal denunciation of the management. 

Andrew had experienced a feeling of calamity all 
the forenoon, a queer foreboding when they entered 
the lobby. Something seemed to snap in his brain 
like an overstrung instrument, when they were 
politely ushered into the box — but what that some- 
thing was Andrew never knew, nor can he to-day 
explain why an unheeded small voice seemed to be 
saying, plain as day, "beware, beware." But in the 
excitement of flashing lights, beautiful women, and 

33 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF ''TEXAS." 

soul-stirring music, the still small voice was for- 
gotten. 

As for Texas, he was the same old care-free jovial 
good fellow; in fact he seemed to have taken on a 
special dispensation of jollity for the afternoon, and 
the puns he made regarding the ladies* enormous 
picture-hats in his range of vision were positively 
shocking. 

Directly the curtain was rung up and Andrew 
became absorbed in the play, but Texas was lacka- 
daisical as usual, and seemed to prefer exchanging 
bon mots with a little Miss in the next box rather 
than seeing the fancy buck-and-wing dancing on the 
stage. Andrew wondered who the little Miss could 
be, for Texas certainly was carrying on a scandalous 
flirtation. A second look convinced him that Texas 
ought not to be blamed, for a more heavenly creature 
could scarcely be imagined. She was evidently about 
ten years of age, a peachy blond with long golden 
hair, and such a sweet face! The face reminded 
Andrew of his sister, Julia, who long before had 
crossed the silent river. 

Thus passed the first act gayly; also the second, 
and the spot-lights never shone on fairer chorus 
girls or funnier comedians. The great audience 
applauded and encored. Actors came blushingly 
before the curtain and bowed their acknowledg- 
ments. 

Then came the great transformation scene. The 
auditorium and stage were winked into semi-dark- 
ness for the popular song, "Pale Moonlight." Just 
before the switch was opened, Andrew remembered 

34 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF ''TEXAS." 

turning in his seat to gaze at the upper balcony. 
The ushers were going from exit to exit trying the 
doors to see that they were locked, and something 
chilly went up Andrew's spine. "WhUt if something 
should happen with those doors fastened!" 

Eight pretty chorus girls and eight escorts strolled 
through the measures of the piece, bathed in a flood 
of dazzling light. Up above, on a massive gridiron, 
an electrician was manipulating the "spot-light" 
which threw such brilliant effects upon the stage, 
picking out first this, then that beauty, covering her 
with a glory of color. The whole effect of the scene, 
coupled with the willowy dancing and entrancing 
music, completely hypnotized both Andrew and 
Texas; to all other influences they were as dead as 
cadavers — so dead in fact that they failed to notice 
a tiny spark which darted across the cloth drape in 
the archway up in the proscenium. Probably there 
were not a half-dozen people in that great audience, 
outside of the theatre attaches, who noticed the 
spark. Accustomed as they were to insignificant fire 
scares and trying ordeals, the stage-hands hurried 
silently to the task of extinguishing the fire. Down 
in the orchestra-pit it could be seen that something 
was wrong, but the trained musicians played on 
unconcernedly. Members of the troupe cast their 
eyes above and saw the flame growing until it 
swelled to a maelstrom, but they were not fright- 
ened; they knew the firemen could attend to that; 
so the dance of death went on. Meanwhile the fire- 
fiend, red and glowing with exultation, snapping with 
the expectation of the feast that was before him, 

35 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF ''TEXASr 

grew like a demon. Glowing embers began to fall 
upon the bare shoulders of the dancers, and they 
retreated with blanched faces and trembling limbs; 
true to their training they had stood nobly, but 
human nature has a limit. At that the audience 
took alarm and rose to its feet. 

The genial comedian, Eddie Foy, rushed to the 
front of the stage, pleading with voice calm but 
tremulous, "Keep your seats, people, keep your 
seats. All will be right." 

Suddenly his voice was drowned in a volley of 
detonations, loud as cannons; the gas-tanks had 
exploded. Great wooden fixtures and carloads of 
blazing scenery loosened from above, fell like thun- 
derbolts on the now deserted stage. Then high 
above the crackling of the flames came the hoarse 
command, "Lower the fire-curtain!" Like a great 
gray blanket something broke from the proscenium- 
arch and dropped corner-wise, see-sawing in front of 
the fiery furnace, nearly touching the stage at one 
end; and there it hung, crumpled and twisted. 
Curses be upon such a puny and impotent contriv- 
ance ! With that defective asbestos curtain rests the 
responsibility of snuffing out five hundred precious 
human lives. 

Andrew had left his seat at the command to lower 
the curtain, traversing more than two-thirds of the 
distance to the nearest exit, but the queerest part of 
it all was, he had not thought of Texas, nor even 
looked back. To his dying day he will reproach him- 
self deeply that the welfare of his friend never as 
much as entered his thoughts on that fatal afternoon, 

36 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF "TEXASr 

until he came to himself amongst the excited, strug- 
gling throng in the street. How he reached the outer 
air, Andrew never knew. 

After the dropping of the fire-proof curtain, a 
large iron door in the rear of the stage had been 
opened by fleeing actors, and the draft caused there* 
by shot the white-hot flames back into the audito- 
rium, where hell had broken loose in the vast throng 
who fled before it. Doors, windows, hallways, fire- 
escapes — all were jammed in a moment with strug- 
gling humanity, fighting for life. Some of the doors 
were jammed almost instantly, so that no human 
power could push them open. Behind those in front 
they pressed, the frenzied mass of humanity, Chi- 
cago's elect, the wives and children of its most pros- 
perous business men and the flower of local society, 
fighting like demons incarnate. Purses, wraps, costly 
furs, were cast aside in that mad rush ; mothers were 
torn from children, husbands from wives. No hold, 
however strong, could last against that awful, inde- 
scribable crush. Strong men who sought to the last 
to sustain their feminine companions were swept 
away like straws, thrown to the floor and trampled 
into unconsciousness in the twinkling of an eye. 
Women, to whom the safety of their children was 
more than their own lives, had their little ones torn 
from them and buried under the mighty sweep of 
humanity, moving onward by intuition rather than 
through exercise of thought, to the various exits. 
They, in turn, were swept on, before their wails died 
on their lips — some to safety, others to a horrible 
death. 

37 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF "TEXAS." 

While some exits were jammed by fallen refugees 
SO) as to become useless, others refused to open. In 
the darkness that fell upon the doomed theatre, a 
struggle ensued such as was never pictured by the 
mind of Dante in his visions of Inferno. With pray- 
ers, curses, and meaningless shrieks of terror, all 
faced their fate like rats in a trap. The darkness 
was illumined by a fearful light that burst from the 
sea of flame pouring from the proscenium, making 
Dante's illusions seem commonplace. In a few 
minutes all was over but the weeping. 

Where at 3:15 beauty and fashion and happy 
amusement-seekers thronged the palatial playhouse, 
they fell a few moments later before a deadly blast 
of flame and gases, sweeping all with irresistible 
force. 

Andrew found himself dragged and buffeted along 
the pavement, and finally brought up against a door- 
way across the street, which was now a mass of vehi- 
cles, street-cars and pedestrians. Dead-wagons and 
ambulances of every description lined the edge of 
the walks, ready. to receive the harvest. A few rods 
above, at the corner of Randolph Street a flock of 
fire-engines churned and belched forth great clouds 
of smoke. The firemen were directing streams of 
water on the premises, some into the body of the 
house, where vagrant tongues of flame still found 
material on which to feed. Inside, silence reigned — 
the silence of death. But few outside realized the 
awful condition there. At the doors firemen and 
police struggled with half-crazed men and weeping 
women, who had either escaped and left some mem- 

38 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF ''TEXAS." 

ber of their families inside, or were anxiously look- 
ing for friends in that funeral pyre. 

In the nearby business places counters and floors 
were covered with the injured and dying. Gradually 
they were loaded into improvised ambulances; deliv- 
ery-wagons, etc., being utilized, and taken post-haste 
to the nearest hospitals. Soon the darkened, glutted 
death-trap was cooled sufficiently to be entered, and 
what a sight met the eyes of the rescuers! The 
beautiful marble staircase and pillars of the foyer 
were scarcely smirched, and the colossal front, with 
its rich, many-colored windows stood as imposing 
and magnificent as before, but 0, the chamber of 
horrors behind that monument! 

Supreme over all in the mouldering charnel-house 
was the scent of scorching human flesh. 

Andrew had accidentally met Gregg, the genial 
patrolman of his acquaintance, and begged to be 
allowed to help carry out the dead. Gregg at first 
shook his head. "Boy, you couldn't stay three min- 
utes in that hellhole." 

"But I must, Texas is in there, O my God!" and 
the emotions which had been checked by terror 
began to manifest themselves. Great tears rolled 
down Andrew's blanched cheeks, in spite of heroic 
efforts. Gregg turned away and Andrew followed 
at his heels through the glass street-doors. In the 
confusion of passing to and fro, he was not noticed by 
the guard. Gregg mounted the marble stairs, all 
unconscious that he had a willing helper at his 
elbow. At the top of the stairs, entering the first 
balcony, Andrew took his first look at the awful 

39 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF "TEXAS." 

results. For a distance of twenty feet back from 
the doors, and fully eight feet deep, bodies were 
piled in a heap, and the ghastliness of the thing 
nearly smote our young friend senseless. Save for 
the groans of some half-conscious victim somewhere 
in the pile, all was silent as the grave. Firemen and 
rescuers pulled and tugged frantically at the tangled 
mass of legs and arms, trying to get at those who 
were yet alive. 

Andy walked to the edge of the balcony and tried 
to accustom his eyes to the gloom below, but save 
for an occasional live spark here and there, where 
the water had failed to reach, all was dark as night. 
The odor of burning flesh, scorched woodwork, and 
gases, which assailed his nostrils, was well-nigh suf- 
focating; it reminded him of the slaughter-house 
down at Jonesville. Sick and limp as a rag he stood 
there, too horrified to move. Plainly he would have 
to do something or get out at once. Gregg must 
have noticed Andrew's condition, for he clutched the 
latter's arm roughly. "See here kid, grab this 
blanket, and get busy. Can't you see you're 
needed?" and Gregg gave him a lusty push, which 
seemed to break the spell. Thenceforth all timidity 
and nausea vanished, and Andrew worked like a Tro- 
jan. Every time a fresh load was thrown into his 
blanket, 'how anxiously did he scrutinize the black- 
ened features, hoping against hope that Texas had 
escaped, but expecting the worst. But he didn't see 
Texas that day nor the next. 

Presently the electricians, working frantically, 
installed temporary arc lights, and the sights they 

40 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF ''TEXAS." 

were forced to undergo would surely have driven 
the workers to stark lunacy, but for the gradual initi- 
ation they had received. 

Outside, the staring crowds watched with silent 
curiosity the loading of human baggage. Soon the 
supply of ambulances gave out, and great four-horse 
drays were pressed into service, hauling their loads, 
piled three-deep like cordwood, to the city morgues. 
As they passed along the route, people three blocks 
away were heard to remark, "What, another load? 
Merciful heavens, how many more?" 

As they loaded the thirtieth body on a huge dray, 
Andrew noticed a man well up in front who seemed 
to be arranging the blankets. On returning, the 
same man was seen repeating the operation. 
Andrew supposed he must be one of the helpers, but 
Gregg became suspicious and accosted the stranger. 
Something in the breadth of shoulders looked famil- 
iar to Andrew, and when he got a glimpse of the 
features, he saw it was none other than his old 
acquaintance, Blossom, but how changed! The fel- 
low made no reply, but seeing he was spotted by the 
officer, bolted down in front of the wagon between 
the horses, striking the pavement just in time to 
land in the arms of another policeman, who yanked 
him up, standing. There was a brief struggle, and 
something in Blossom's hand flashed sharply. It 
was a gun, but before he could use it the officer's 
night-stick was playing a lively tattoo on his head. 
Then there was a click of the bracelets snapped on 
his wrists, and Blossom was led away under arrest. 

"The rat was robbing the dead," said Gregg 

41 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF ''TEXAS." 

gruffly. "The boys will probably give him the third 
degree down at the station." 

That sullen, sorrowful night, as Andrew rode the 
creeping cable homeward, he felt ten years older. A 
weight of sadness was hanging about his neck like a 
millstone. Gloom, heavy and crushing, was upon 
every countenance ; the city was as though wrapped 
in a mantle of crepe. 

Down at the Art Academy no one was working 
very industriously for a fortnight, and when our 
friend made his appearance, a flood of questions 
assailed him. As to Texas' whereabouts he knew 
nothing, but he feared the worst. Tears stood in 
many eyes while the students lounged in little 
groups discussing the catastrophe. They gathered 
about Andrew, showering congratulations for his 
escape; even DeLancey, whose breath strongly sug- 
gested a distillery, wrung Andrew's hand in a fath- 
erly way, and chanted in a hoarse whisper that the 
great and merciful God was surely with him. Later, 
his gratitude assumed such proportions that he 
invited Andrew to the storeroom, meanwhile tap- 
ping his hip pocket as an indication that something 
was needed as a nerve steadier. 

Out in the office. Prof, and Mrs. Dupre were try- 
ing vainly to comfort the well-nigh delirious mother 
of Texas, to whom they had telegraphed the day 
before. The stricken woman walked constantly to 
and fro, wringing her hands and moaning, "O my 
boy, my boy! Can't they find him? Can't they do 
something?" Finally she wore herself out, and sank 
dejectedly into a seat. Alas! Her case was but a 

42 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF ''TEXAS," 

prototype of a hundred other unfortunate mothers, 
who were even then beseeching the Almighty to 
spare them that bitter cup. 

Andrew scarcely knew or cared what he did. He 
could not work, and wandered from morgue to 
morgue with that horror clutching at his heart. The 
dead he inspected carefully, hoping that somewhere 
a clue might be found, leading to identification. 
Would this horrible nightmare of weeping friends, 
sighing officials and fatherless children never cease? 
One instance Andrew could never forget: he had 
gone on his fruitless search to a west-side morgue 
and there, side by side, lay the bodies of four daugh- 
ters and a father, so the officer told him. They were 
evidently people of refinement and means, for the 
blackened fingers sparkled with jewelled rings. 

It seemed that the happy family had attended the 
matinee, and when the fire occurred only the mother 
escaped. There was nothing on their bodies by 
which identification was possible. Already decom- 
position was setting in, and it would be but a matter 
of a fev/ hours when they must needs be interred, 
unknown. Andrew passed along to the next and the 
next, but saw no familiar form. Suddenly an un- 
earthly shriek rang through the morgue, and a black- 
robed, heavily-veiled woman threw herself prostrate 
upon the floor beside the little girls' bodies. 

"My daughters, my daughters! O, my God!" she 
sobbed in agony, writhing and moaning and planting 
kisses on the little blackened hands. The heart- 
broken mother had found her loved ones. A little 
terrier dog, wearing a richly-chased gold collar, had 

43 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF "TEXAS." 

followed his mistress, and his grief, too, was pitiful 
to see, whining in his mute dog-like way as he 
sniffed at his former master's shoes. 

An attendant kindly lifted the stricken woman to 
her feet and tried to calm her, but in vain. Andrew 
could endure no more, and as he turned at the door, 
he saw the woman's face go suddenly white as chalk 
under her veil, the next moment she fell into the 
attendant's arms in a dead faint. 

A sadder New Year's never dawned upon a 
stricken city. Go where you might in that great 
metropolis, a funeral gloom' hung over the holiday. 
As for Andrew, he was heartsick, homesick — com- 
pletely broken. Hoping to hear something of inter- 
est, he had gone downtown early in the forenoon, 
but with no heart for work. 

At the corner of Madison and State streets he 
passed a quartette of white funeral cars, bound for 
Mt. Carmel. A large official-looking man who stood 
near, remarked; 'That's the whole family wiped 
out." Going from Madison to Jackson, Andrew 
passed no less than five different funeral corteges; 
always the same shadow of death. Would he ever 
escape it? 

Down on Jackson he met Gregg, and that corpu- 
lent individual was the picture of despair. He told 
Andrew that for three nights he had slept only 
a couple of hours, being on special duty at the 
scorched theatre. In answer to Andrew's eager 
question, he said they had found Texas, and only 
that afternoon the mother had claimed the body. 
Gregg remarked in his gruff way, "That sucker sure 

44 



THE IMMORTALIZING OF "TEXAS." 

was a hero. I talked with Sergeant Bulger, who 
helped carry out the dead near the front of the audi- 
torium, and what do you think he told me? Texas 
was found under a heap, badly burned, left arm 
burned to a crisp, and dead as a mackerel, and 
clasped tightly in his right arm was the form of a 
beautiful, golden-haired girl, probably ten years of 
age. Texas had removed his coat and wrapped it 
about her. She was unscathed by the fire and alive, 
though nearly asphyxiated. It required a hard pull 
to separate her from her protector's death grip, 
but the doctor gave her the oxygen and she is 
recovering." 

Filled with loneliness and an aching void, Andrew 
returned to the Art Academy, where he lingered only 
a short hour. That hour was occupied in packing up 
his meager belongings. Dupre looked surprised 
when his pupil appeared, grip in hand, but noticing 
the troubled look, said pleasantly, "Where are you 
going, Mr. Behrens?" 

"I think perhaps I'll — that is — I guess I'll go down 
to Jonesville," stammered Andrew, 



45 



The Strontium CrystaL 

IT IS unnecessary to mention here the disasters 
which had overtaken the American army at 
the beginning of 1813, but there was little 
cheer in their camp since General Winchester's com- 
mand had been badly worsted at the River Raisin, 
nearly the whole force being wiped out by blood- 
thirsty Indians under Chief Tecumtha and General 
Proctor, who is said to have made special induce- 
ments for the braves to hunt American scalps. Suf- 
fice it to say the spirit of the American army was 
then at a low ebb, and it remained for the men of 
the lake navy — though it could hardly be called a 
navy since it was not yet born — to strike a blow 
which would beard the British lion in his den and 
redeem the fortunes of "Brother Jonathan." 

Congress saw fit to select for this important work 
a young man not then twenty-eight years of age, who 
had never smelled powder — Oliver H. Perry of 
Rhode Island, formerly midshipman in the navy — 
and we open this narrative with the hero before us, 
a remarkably good-looking officer, scion of naval 
officers — ^^for his father, peace to his ashes, had 
served in the Revolution. At this time young Perry 
was in the flower of his manhood — a man of dash- 
ing appearance, brown-eyed and prepossessing — ^and 
one who could grace any drawing-room in Washing- 

46 



THE STRONTIUM CRYSTAL. 

ton as well as the quarter-deck, though such was not 
his mission. Neither did he believe in drawing-room 
officers, and the uniform which he wore meant 
action and results, rather than pomp and gilt lace. 

He had improvised a shipyard at Erie, a favorable 
harbor a few miles east of where now stands the 
city of Sandusky, Ohio, on the shores of Lake Erie, 
and on the morning of the 5th of May, 1813, this 
little harbor was the! scene of activity such as only 
the throes of war can afford. As an overwhelming 
climax to the many trials of the Commodore, it was 
found, that after launching his largest vessels, they 
drew so much water that strenuous means were 
required to get them over the sand-bar at the mouth 
of the harbor; and so we find Perry, and the second 
in command, Lieut. Kemble, U. S. N., working like 
beavers, shoulder to^ shoulder with sailors and roust- 
abouts. And it was yet several days before they had 
the satisfaction of seeing the entire fleet riding at 
anchor outside. 

But the laborious effort was more than repaid by 
the fine appearance presented by the squadron, 
dressed in fresh paint, newly rigged, with snowy 
sails, and looking in fact quite formidable, with 
everything shipshape — ^except a sufficient quota of 
mem to man it. Then the Commodore groaned in- 
wardly, for well he knew their impotence to cope 
with Barclay's towering ships of war, and seadogs 
boasting of a hundred fights. With the undisciplined 
crews and insufficient armament, the outcome could 
be little short of disaster for Perry — but he was 
"game". 

47 



THE STRONTIUM CRYSTAL. 

At this opportune moment, sails hove to in the 
offing, the American fleet beat a hasty call to quar- 
ters, and clumsily addressing themselves to the guns, 
waited for the expected annihilation; but it didn't 
come. As the Commodore had surmised, the new 
arrivals were the lesser lights of the British flotilla, 
under Capt. Robert H. Barclay, who had been lying 
at Maiden for the winter. The Americans, of course, 
weighed anchor, and stood out to meet the enemy: 
but to their surprise Barclay crowded on all sail pos- 
sible, and stood north-west — the affair becoming a 
chase, which drew the Americans well up in the 
Detroit river — for the British commander had simply 
reconnoitered, but had no stomach for fighting, inas- 
much as his largest boat, the "Detroit", was still on 
the stocks at Maiden. 

Perry, in the "Lawrence", his flagship, set every 
stitch of sail, but with her low masts and fat bows 
she was no match in speed for the British frigates. 
Barclay had no desire to engage just then, and he 
"hot-footed it" in order to get under the protection 
of batteries at Maiden. 

During that night a desultory firing was kept up 
between the batteries and the Americans, without 
much effect, though there stands to-day, below 
Detroit, the venerable mansion bearing scars of 
some of Perry's well-directed shots fired from "Long 
Toms" at an approximate distance of perhaps two 
miles. And perchance, if you would take a stroll up 
to the city-hall, you would find the same staunch old 
cast-iron piece which planted that shot; or, if you 
visit the wharf, perhaps deeply imbedded in the mud, 

48 



THE STRONTIUM CRYSTAL, 

you might find another of those old heroes. What 
ignoble uses v/e make of our relics! 

The next morning was bright and clear, and the 
American ships presented a gala-day appearance, 
with flags snapping in the breeze, sails being unreefed, 
ropes swishing through blocks mingled with the 
brusque commands of officers, and above all the glo- 
rious blue skies of summer. On the forward deck 
of the "Lawrence", a regiment of marines stood at 
attention, while the Executive Officer passed through 
on inspection, and the band played "Yankee Doodle." 
Perry's eagle eye took in all these details with a 
sweep, and knowing his squadron could accomplish 
nothing by bombarding the batteries, he resolved to 
retrace his steps. With considerable disappointment 
he gave the command "weigh anchor": and the fleet 
headed south-east by south. Shortly before the noon 
hour, the high promontory of Gibraltar came in sight 
from the mast-head. "Reef mainsail" came ringing 
down the wind from ship to ship, as the sloping 
decks yawed, and the wheelsmen ground the spokes 
to change the course. At 3:30 p. m., the flagship 
dropped anchor in twenty fathoms of water, and 
within three hundred yards of the shores of Put-in- 
Bay. 

The Commodore and his second in command, 
Lieut. Kemble, immediately put off in the long-boat 
to explore the island, which was well wooded. 
They had hoped to find a spring where the water- 
butts might be replenished, but nothing of the sort 
was seen until sundown, when Perry and Kemble 
had wandered by themselves some distance inland 

49 



THE STRONTIUM CRYSTAL. 

through the tangled creepers, festoooned wild grapes 
and heavy undergrowth with which the island seemed 
to be covered. Presently an opening was observed a 
few hundred feet in advance, and soon they emerged 
from the surrounding timber into a rocky amphithe- 
ater, where no shrubbery or vegetation could grow 
— nothing but a few half-strangled creepers in the 
crevices of the rock here and there. 

From the opposite side of this amphitheater, a 
stream entered and wound tortuously between the 
rocks, echoing as it flowed along — not unlike a purl- 
ing meadow-brook — and the Commodore, being 
thirsty from his long tramp, stooped and drank, find- 
ing the water clear,, and cold as ice. Kemble fol- 
lowed the stream some distance, and was surprised 
to find, not, as he had anticipated, a spring, but 
instead, the little rivulet seemed to lose itself 
beneath a large boulder, which gave forth hollow 
sounds when struck with a pistol butt. Night was 
upon them, however, and they hastily left the place 
and returned to the boat. During the short interval 
of returning to the flag-ship, neither Perry nor 
Kemble broached the subject of the spring to the 
men, but stated that they had found plenty of water 
for drinking-purposes. There the matter rested. 

The wind had lulled with the sinking of the sun, 
and the water in the little bay was as smooth as a 
mill-pond. Perry ordered the ship's lanterns lighted, 
and at the signal, the outlying sloops weighed anchor, 
and moved close in. The stillness of the late sum- 
mer night was broken by the clanking of chains 
grinding through hawse-pipes, and the creaking of 

50 



THE STRONTIUM CRYSTAL, 

newly-slung blocks. Dark, wet-looking clouds over- 
spread the heavens; in the forests ashore, millions 
of tireless katydids piped their ceaseless lay. 

Perry and Kemble remained on deck until nearly 
midnight, discussing the probabilities of an encoun- 
ter with Barclay, which they knew must come soon: 
for the British Commodore had also strained every 
sinew to complete his flag-ship, the "Detroit". She 
was to be a powerful man-of-war when finished, 
manned with Britain's best, and the outcome looked 
dubious indeed for the American fleet, hampered as it 
was, with a motley array consisting of a few disci- 
plined officers, and crews of "land lubbers" mostly, 
who were having their first dose of seamanship — 
and a sorry job they made of it. 

After a particularly discouraging argument, Kem- 
ble turned in, and soon snored heavily, but not for 
long. He was aroused by the clank of heavy boots 
on the hatch over his head — the watch had rushed 
to the companionway bellowing like a loon: "Light 
on shore. Sir." Kemble stepped into his slippers, 
and hurried above, where he found Perry talking 
excitedly and the first officer, Mr. Johns, straining 
his eyes to peer shoreward. 

Being so suddenly aroused from heavy sleep, 
.Kemble had to wait some seconds before he could 
get his vision adapted to the distance. Then he saw 
a brilliant ball of light, which seemed as large as 
the ship's lantern, moving slowly about among the 
tree-boles near the water — now emerging — now dis- 
appearing — apparently at a height of five feet above 
the ground. Gradually it traveled to the left, mov- 

51 



THE STRONTIUM CRYSTAL. 

ing as though carried by some invisible hand, and 
glimmering on the trees. Outside its zone, all was 
black as Erebus. By this time the whole crew of 
the "Lawrence" were clustered forward, watching the 
strange beacon and talking in husky whispers. 
Kemble crossed over and stood by the Commodore's 
side, trying hard to speak: but his tongue was dry. 
At last Perry broke the silence. 

"What in God's name is it?" he said, huskily. 
"Surely no human hand is carrying that lantern, 
and besides, this island is uninhabited, is it not. 
Lieutenant?" 

Kemble did not answer at once, though he was 
not superstitious in the least, and under any other 
circumstances would have scoffed at such a state- 
ment. 

"You might hail him, Commodore, and see what 
his errand is this time of night" said Kemble, with 
a laugh meant to be sarcastic, though somehow it 
did not sound quite natural. 

"Hail him yourself: my throat is dry," said Perry, 
rather impatiently. 

Promptly enough, Kemble mounted the rail, clutch- 
ing the back-stay, and in stentorian tones threw his 
voice into the night. The cry awoke the echoes from 
far and near, and they seemed to repeat a dozen 
times from shore to ship alternately, and from island 
to island, dying at last far out in the Lake. Directly, 
the prolonged rumble of a distant approaching thun- 
der-storm seemed to start in the south quarter, and 
rolled away in the dark skies, followed by a stray 
raindrop here and there; then all was quiet again. 

52 



THE STRONTIUM CRYSTAL, ., 

Twice and thrice he hailed the pallid flickering thing 
out there, but only the mocking reverberations 
against Gibraltar's rock answered, and Kemble 
swung himself to the deck with a creepy feeling. 
Perry uttered a low "Humph" or an imprecation 
and said, "Perhaps he didn't hear you, Lieutenant." 

Meanwhile the voices of the crew swelled into a 
loud rumble, as they conversed among themselves. 
The light moved slowly and steadily to and fro, and 
seemed to grow larger: or was it coming nearer? 
It advanced to the water's edge, and hung there per- 
haps for five minutes, shining brightly, throwing 
ghostly shadows on the near-by shrubbery, and a 
brilliant phosphorescent track downward into the 
limpid shallows. 

Presently it moved again to the right, and vice 
versa, all the time coming nearer; till not over fifty 
fathoms from the "Lawrence's" starboard quarter, it 
paused and burned with a bluish light, throwing 
sharp reflections and black shadows on the white 
faces of the crew. Kemble turned his gaze forward, 
just in time to catch the gleam of muskets and cut- 
lasses — the crew had armed themselves. 

Suddenly the "will-o'-the-wisp" winked and went 
out, — leaving the darkness black as tar. Their faces 
were puckered and eyes blinking from gazing at its 
brilliance, and for several minutes not a word was 
uttered. Finally Perry broke the rather painful 
silence, with the command, "Tumble below, men, and 
retire; there is no harm done. This light is noth- 
ing but the Hgnis fatuus.' " 

What the "ignis fatuus" was, none of the crew 

53 



THE STRONTIUM CRYSTAL. 

had the least idea; but they obeyed as to going 
below, though there was no sleep for them. They 
sat on bunks and lockers, smoking, and speculating 
upon the "ignis" till the breakfast-call sounded. 

At the close of morning muster, calling Kemble 
into his cabin. Perry laid before him on the table 
a sparkling stone crystal, transparent, six-sided, and 
as big as your finger; the facets or sides of which 
were regular as though fashioned by some clever 
artisan — altogether a remarkable object to Kemble, 
who had never seen its like. 

"What do you make of it, Lieutenant?" said Perry. 

After a lengthy examination, Kemble was forced 
to admit he would have to be shown. 

"That," said Perry, seating himself comfortably 
opposite the Lieutenant and lighting his pipe, "is a 
stalactite crystal which was given to me by my fath- 
er's life-long friend, Anders — Zacharias Anders — ^of 
Providence, Rhode Island; and it has a history. 
Anders was born in Berne, Switzerland, in 1759 or 
thereabouts, and came to this country to escape the 
press-gang, that sought to draft him into the ser- 
vice, which, as you know, is compulsory in that coun- 
try. Previous to this, he had traveled much in Aus- 
tria and Italy in pursuit of his favorite study, geology, 
being considered an authority on such matters. Dur- 
ing one of his trips in the Austrian Alps, he visited 
a beautiful mountain-lake of high altitude, whose 
shores were thickly wooded, and inhabited by an 
abundance of game of the large type, such as deer, 
bears, etc., and the curious mountain goats known 
as chamois, but no human being within many miles. 

54 



THE STRONTIUM CRYSTAL. 

Anders was so charmed with the region and its facili- 
ties for his study, that he decided to remain indefi- 
nitely, and built a rude cabin, also a boat, from the 
straight cedars which he cut near by. The boat he 
used in visiting the numerous islands of the lake. 
One of the islands seemed to be especially low and 
marshy, interspersed with little wooded knolls, and 
contained perhaps a hundred acres more or less. 
Chamois were numerous there, and easy to cap- 
ture, never having been frightened by the hunter. 
Aside from shooting these curious animals, Anders 
had discovered strange formations of rock on the 
knolls; in fact, the whole upland portion of the 
island seemed to be nothing but shaly rock, covered 
with soil of great richness. 

"One day he was chasing a deer through the tim- 
ber, when he fell feet-foremost into what appeared 
to be an abandoned burrow of some wild animal, 
but upon investigation proved to be the mouth of a 
cave extending back into the hill hundreds of feet, 
thence down and down till the gloom and loneliness 
of the thing actually frightened him from making 
further examination. However, he determined to 
see more of it, and returned the next day with a lib- 
eral supply of provisions, and dry pine-knots suit- 
able for kindling. A torch was the most desired 
article: and by a dint of ingenuity one was impro- 
vised. 

"The entrance to the cave was so small, that he 
could barely squeeze through, but once in, the pass- 
age widened gradually into a high gallery descending 
at an angle of 45 degrees. Following the gallery for 

55 



THE STRONTIUM CRYSTAL, 

a distance of four hundred feet, he came to a great 
cavern, whose sides he could not distinguish at all, 
and the roof was so high that nothing but the points 
of stalactites hanging in great clusters from the ceil- 
ing could be seen. These stalactites were of the 
same formation as this crystal lying before us, only 
vastly larger — some of them as much as ten feet in 
diameter. The air was pure and dry, and no animal 
or insect life was in evidence. 

"Anders passed on, going, as he thought, straight 
ahead, but really in a large circle; for he was later 
surprised and disgusted to find he had returned to 
the identical opening where he started. Fortunately 
he rummaged his clothes, and found a small pocket- 
compass, and with it managed to keep a fairly 
straight course, coming at last to the further wall of 
the cavern, only to find it sheer, and no possible exit 
in sight. Here the stalactites came down low enough 
to be broken off by hand. Keeping close to the wall, 
Anders found another opening, after traversing a 
quarter of the circumference, probably ten feet 
high, which seemed to be the end of another gallery. 
At this point he pulled out his watch, and was sur- 
prised to find that fifteen hours had elapsed since 
entering the cave; in other words, he had started 
at six o'clock in the morning and it was now nine 
o'clock at night. 

"Feeling tired and hungry, he spread a blanket 
upon the rough floor, and regaled himself with veni- 
son and biscuits. But one torch remained, and since 
the life of a torch was at best only about eight hours, 
it was necessary that he hastily retrace his steps 

56 



THE STRONTIUM CRYSTAL 

lest he be left in total darkness deep in the bowels 
of the earth. Hurriedly he started on the return trip, 
picking his way around the roughest and rockiest 
parts of the floor. Soon it dawned upon him that 
getting out was vastly harder than getting in — 
besides, he was fatigued. The watch indicated eleven 
o'clock, and still no side wall was reached. What if 
he had misjudged the direction and was lost? The 
floor of the cavern was rougher at every step and 
now nothing could be seen above — all was black- 
ness. Plainly he was not in his former path. Great 
stalagmites sprang from the floor; some of them as 
high as a man, some as high as a church, their 
thousand-and-one pinnacles glistening like diamonds 
in the light of his pine-knot torch. 

"Though thoroughly frightened at his predicament, 
Anders' love of the beautiful would not be stilled, 
and he could scarcely tear himself away from such 
a galaxy of Nature's jewels. Meanwhile the torch 
was nearly consumed, and as yet no signs of the 
outer world were apparent. Gradually the floor 
became smoother, and progress easier; the surface 
began to ascend, and stalactites appeared above. 
Following these hopeful signs, he came to a hole in 
the side-wall, thence into a narrow gallery which led 
to the open air, and not a minute too soon; for at 
this juncture the torch spluttered and went out, burn- 
ing his fingers. 

"Daylight was just breaking over the mountain- 
tops, and Anders was dumbfounded to find himself j 
not, as he had expected, on the island, but seventeen 
miles ffom the nearest shore of the lake, nearly dead 

57 



THE STRONTIUM CRYSTAL. 

from exhaustion^ with nothing to eat but berries^ and 
such game as he could bag. 

"Next day he made the return-trip to his cabin, and 
found that in addition to seventeen miles, he must 
travel half the circumference of the lake. This 
crystal was all that he possessed as a souvenir of the 
experience — he had broken it off with his hammer 
early in the adventure. 

"Ill-luck still pursued him; before he could again 
visit the cave, the Government learned of his where- 
abouts, and he was obliged to flee to America. In 
New York City he met my father, and a close friend- 
ship sprung up between them. Father spent many 
happy days in Anders' company, often beseeching 
him to come to Newport to reside, which he finally 
did, and his demise occurred there three years ago, 
but he always maintained to his dying day that if the 
Government had not interfered he would have given 
to the world one of the' greatest discoveries of the 
age — a gigantic cave composed of almost pure stron- 
tium calcium, worth its weight in gold, and hard to 
get at that. 

"Anders always talked of the day when he would 
return to the scene of his adventure, and unravel the 
mystery of that mighty cave. During his residence 
in this country he visited Niagara, and took a trip 
on the Lakes, coming to these islands — in fact it was 
he who called my attention to this harbor. He also 
said that the formation of these islands convinced 
him that strontium rock-caves existed, and to be frank 
with you, I believe that is the explanation of the dis- 
appearing stream we saw yesterday." 

58 



THE STRONTIUM CRYSTAL. 

Kemble was fascinated with the tale, and enthu- 
siastically proposed that they visit the island at once 
and search for the hidden cave; but Perry declined, 
saying that he had promised shore leave to a por- 
tion oi the crews that day, and he did not wish to 
take them) into his confidence. 

However, as soon as possible, they again visited 
the island, this time fully provided with a small lan- 
tern and compass, also a few feet of fine stout rope, 
which they managed to conceal under their blankets. 
The boatswain looked suspiciously at the blankets, 
as he swung their boat on the davits and lowered 
away, but discreetly said nothing. 

Safely ashore, they lost no time in discarding 
their coats and waistcoats, and donning oilskins 
and sou'westers; thus they sallied forth. After sev- 
eral hours of fruitless search all around the rocky 
amphitheater, they were discouraged and hungry, 
and Kemble proposed that they return to the boat for 
refreshments; but he noticed a dead tree some little 
distance away. The whole side of its trunk from top 
to bottom was riven as though by a thunderbolt, and 
the tree stood at a sharp angle to the westward. 
Indeed, it appeared to be poised so delicately, that a 
breath of air would send it crashing to the ground. 
Upon investigation, it was found that the roots on 
the east side were high above the soil, and looked 
as though an undermining process had been begun, 
either by some wild animal or the elements. 

They had fetched a boat-hook having a handle 
some ten feet in length; Perry threw the hook into 
the half-decayed trunk as high as he could reach. 

59 



THE STRONTIUM CRYSTAL. 

The hook held, and Kemble took hold. Together 
they tugged — once, twice — and the third pull brought 
the tree to earth. And would you believe it? Right 
under the roots was a dark hole, going down indefi- 
nitely. Some soil had been dislodged, and sifted 
slowly into the opening; otherwise it was clear. 

Quickly lighting their trusty lard-oil lantern, they 
let themselves carefully into the cavity, stepping 
from rock to rock. Soon they struck bottom: and 
going a few paces, emerged into a large cavern, 
whose sides were a mass of conglomerate crystals, 
sparkling and scintillating like a thousand stars. 
They kept on, coming to the end of this hall, whence 
another passage led to a room much larger. Stalac- 
tites and stalagmites were numerous here, some of 
them forming beautiful pillars — perfectly round, and 
white as snow. 

Perry was delighted with the outcome of his sur- 
mises, but somewhat disappointed at the small size 
of the cave. Carefully they searched the surround- 
ing walls for signs of another gallery: but none 
existed, save where they had entered. Near the 
wall was a large flat boulder thirteen inches thick, 
and possibly three feet in diameter. Kemble struck 
it with his pistol-butt, and was surprised at the hollow 
metallic ring; they tried to move the stone, but it 
was too heavy. Finally they went above and cut a 
stout boxwood lever, with which a "bight" was 
secured sufficient to hoist the boulder. It had lain 
over a fissure large enough for a man to work his 
body through. They tied several feet of rope to the 
lantern, and payed out gradually. 

60 



THE STRONTIUM CRYSTAL, 

The light showed the shaft to be much the same 
as the former one, and at a depth of ten feet, the 
lantern struck bottom. Kemble stepped in, and 
clawed his way down gingerly, followed by Perry. 

They found themselves in a sort of descending 
level, whose ceiling was barely high enough for a 
man to walk upright. The rock formation was tinged 
with yellow, and there was a continual drip, drip of 
sulphurous water from above, which seemed to per- 
colate through the natural masonry of the roof. Fas- 
cination in their work made the two men totally oblivi- 
ous to the swarms of bats which inhabited the cave, 
circling around their heads, and uttering queer 
sounds. Another thing which they had not sensed 
at first, was a reverberating roar, that seemed to 
come from afar. 

"Thunderstorm brewing above, probably," said 
Kemble. 

"Nothing of the sort, my son," answered Perry. 
"To my mind, there is a subterranean river some- 
where in this hole, and we are going to find it pretty 
quick, by the sounds that come from our left." 

iTumerous stalagmites and stalactites now com- 
pelled them to take a dodging crooked course: but 
they slowly worked ahead. The floor was rocky, and 
full of fissures like the surface of a lava river; as 
they advanced, the roar became louder, till they sud- 
denly emerged into a vast cavern, whose sides were 
sheer precipices — and no stalactites appeared above. 
In fact, nothing indicated the presence of any roof: 
all was black as a vault aloft, and curiously enough 
a strong draught of air from somewhere struck their 

61 



THE STRONTIUM CRYSTAL. 

faces. The sickly glow of the lantern threw fantas- 
tic shadows across the floor, and the sound of rush- 
ing roaring waters was like the bellowing of Niagara, 
filling the cave with a pandemonium of echoes. 

Along the floor, they advanced a hundred feet, and 
came to a canyon or rift in the rock, whose width 
might have been eight feet in places: but for the 
most part, the opposite wall could not be touched 
with the pike. Lowering the lantern as far as their 
rope would permit, they fastened it to the pike-han- 
dle, which they laid across the fissure in its narrow- 
est place. Gazing down into the gulch, they could 
catch a glimpse of dark waters churned to a froth, 
as they rushed along in the tortuous channel. At 
intervals the lashing surges threw their white crests 
nearly as high as the lantern. 

Perry was completely overwhelmed by the mag' 
nificence of their discovery, and the subterranean 
river. He was loath to leave the cave, though he 
knew it must be well along in the afternoon, and 
they had eaten nothing since morning. Empty stom- 
achs put a damper on their enthusiasm, and they 
reluctantly returned to the upper air, with many 
speculations as to the source of the hidden river. 
Could it be a vast subterranean body flowing hun- 
dreds of feet below the rocky bed of Lake Erie and 
entirely independent of the latter, or was it a great 
sewer drawing away to unknown depths the waters 
of the Lake? They could present no satisfactory 
explanation of the phenomenon, nor has any one 
since; and it remains as much of a mystery today 
as it was then. 

62 



THE STRONTIUM CRYSTAL. 

Nothing of consequence occurred to vary the 
monotony of drill and gun practice) aboard the fleet 
for the next few days. The Commodore busied him- 
self with putting the armament in fighting trim; the 
regiment of marines which the "Lawrence" carried 
were becoming very efficient marksmen under the 
tutelage of second Lieutenant McDonald of the 
"Niagara", and the "land-lubbers" who had been 
shipped to fill out the crews, were rapidly getting 
their sea legs. Each day while the weather permit- 
ted, the Commodore — glass in hand — took up his 
vigil on the summit of Gibraltar Rock some thirty 
feet above the water, where he could easily discover 
thei first faint smudge on the horizon in the north- 
west quarter, expecting hourly the approach of Bar- 
clay's fleet. 

The morning of September 10th dawned clear and 
warm, finding the crews of the fleet chafing with 
restraint, meanwhile gazing almost wistfully in the 
north-west quarter. Anything was preferable to this 
humdrum routine of scrubbing decks, morning mus- 
ter, shooting at nothing for practice, and daily swim- 
ming-contests. 

The Commodore and his second in command sat 
well forward under a yellow awning, both dressed 
in full uniform: for Perry believed in keeping up 
an official appearance at all' times, and he was neat- 
ness itself in dress. There was a light breeze, which 
whipped rope-ends against masts and booms, and 
gently ruffled the surface of the bay, but hardly suf- 
ficient to straighten the "Lawrence's" ensign flying at 
the masthead. Perry ordered the long-boat launched, 

63 



THE STRONTIUM CRYSTAL. 

and soon eight burly seamen were bending in unison, 
as the oars dipped and feathered, sending the light 
craft jauntily over the ripples toward Gibraltar, 
where they soon beached, and the Commodore — 
glass in hand — mounted the summit of the rock. 

After some moments spent in contemplating the 
beautiful prospect of surrounding islands refresh- 
ingly green, studded like emeralds in the bosom of 
the lake, he trained his glass in the northwest quar- 
ter. To his surprise, three sails were visible; 
directly two more popped above the horizon — then 
another. The breeze had now freshened and chopped 
the water to a dark blue ; the whitecaps running out- 
side the harbor, sparkled in the sunlight. The dis- 
tant ships came up in the wind like gulls, their sails 
white as snow, and enlarged rapidly in the glass — 
showing that they were full-rigged brigs. 

Perry's excitement was epidemic with the men, as 
they hastily pushed off. At the same moment, the 
cry of "sail ho" rang from the "Lawrence's" tops. 
The fleet was quickly changed from its lazy attitude, 
to the grimness of a fighting armada. In less than 
thirty minutes, every anchor was up, sails set, and 
the whole squadron stood out of Put-in-Bay in open 
order, and drew away to meet the foe. As the latter 
came seething and yawing up in the eye of the wind, 
they looked like castles towering above the water; 
every sail' was set to the breeze, and bellying hard 
as iron with the tremendous pressure. Faintly borne 
on the wind, came the strains of music from the 
British boats, growing more distinct until the Ameri- 
cans could catch the notes — the bands were playing 

64 



THE STRONTIUM CRYSTAL. 

"Rule Britannia." Barclay's flagship, the "Detroit", 
led in line, followed by the "Queen Charlotte" and 
four consorts, six in all — mounting sixty-three guns. 

Perry glanced dubiously at his short carronades; 
for it was evident at once that the heavy guns of the 
"Detroit" could play awful havoc with him before he 
could get within range; but Kemble assured the 
Commodore that the "Long Toms" 'tween decks 
would "cut chunks out of the Britisher's lower 
decks" as he expressed it. 

At this point, Barclay shortened sail on the 
"Detroit", which example was followed by the "Law- 
rence." Perry had given his captains elaborate 
instructions as to the procedure to be followed, 
and no anxiety was felt on his part; as they 
were all experienced men, and much older than 
himself. 

Kemble passed aft among the men, giving words 
of encouragement; also ordered the powder-mon- 
keys to sand the decks, for well he knew that ere 
long they would be slippery with blood. The maga- 
zine was opened, and down below, the sailors patted 
the breeches of the guns as they waited in an omi- 
nous silence for the command to open fire. The air 
was heavy with the smell of burning matches; here 
and there a jackey could be seen to slyly draw from 
his pocket some picture of sweetheart or other dear 
one, bestow a long lingering glance, then return it 
with a suggestion of moisture on his eyelids: for 
we must remember that many of these sailor-lads 
were mere boys, who had never seen a fighting-ship 
till they enlisted with Perry. 

65 



THE STRONTIUM CRYSTAL. 

The boatswain's whistle shrilled to the tops, call- 
ing the men forward. The Commodore mounted a 
gun-slide with the ship's colors over his shoulder, 
and thus addressed his men: "Men, this flag was 
given me by the patriotic ladies of Erie, God bless 
them! It contains the last words of the brave Cap- 
tain Lawrence. Shall I hoist it?" 

"Aye, aye. Sir," was the deafening response from 
a hundred throats. 

Soon "Old Glory" mounted to the tops; and as it 
caught the breeze, the whole squadron saw those 
memorable words, "Don't Give Up the Ship." A 
lusty cheer rolled down the line, and was repeated. 
Fired with their young commander's enthusiasm, the 
crews returned to quarters. 

Meantime, the enemy was rapidly coming within 
range, and aboard the "Detroit", Barclay's men 
stood impatiently at the guns, wrought up to a ner- 
vous pitch which is never felt except when about 
to hurl the deadly grape for the first time. The 
Union Jack mounted jerkily to her tops, and a cheer 
swept down the British line, but it hardly drowned 
the bands which until now had pealed forth across 
the water. 

At precisely two o'clock, a puff of white smoke 
belched from the "Detroit's" forv/ard twelve-pounder, 
followed an instant later by a deep-throated deto- 
nation: and the battle was on. The first shot 
went wild of the mark, and richochetted beyond the 
"Lawrence." 

Perry replied with his long guns first, later with 
his carronades: but it was evident that he would 

66 



THE STRONTIUM CRYSTAL. 

have to close iit with the enemy at once, so much 
greater was the range of their guns. As yet he had 
taken in little sail; and the "Lawrence" was bowl- 
ing along at a twelve-knot speed, rapidly nearing the 
"Detroit", which had ported her helm in order to 
broadside. Almost before he knew it, Perry was in 
direct combat with the three heaviest British frig- 
ates, and their broadsides were tearing and cutting 
his flagship's rigging like fiery hail. 

Broadside answered broadside with exceeding 
rapidity, and as the "Lawrence" swung around, an 
unlucky shot passed through one of her lower ports, 
piercing her through and through. That shot killed 
seven men, and disabled two gun-crews. Blood 
began to flow freely. Kemble, while superintending 
the training of a port gun, received a musket-ball 
through the arm, from the high tops of the "Detroit." 
Almost simultaneously a broadside raked the "Law- 
rence's" decks, and every man who happened to be 
on the starboard side was either killed or disabled. 
Truly, the heavy iron of the British was beginning 
to tell. 

On board the "Niagara", things were going much 
better, for she had succeeded in raking the "Queen 
Charlotte" fore and aft with "long toms": and her 
captain ordered the men to train the guns on the 
mainmast of the "Charlotte", which had already 
been pierced twice. As luck would have it, the 
"Charlotte", having taken in every stitch of sail, had 
no headway for steering, and drifted squarely around. 
Thus far her casualties had been small: but directly 
the "Niagara" broadsided again, and raked the decks 

67 



THE STRONTIUM CRYSTAL, 

to a man; the mainmast went by the board also, 
while the "Niagara" had scarcely been hit by a half- 
dozen shots. 

On board the "Detroit" everybody was hopeful; 
every shot from her brass pieces tore the "Law- 
rence's" decks fearfully, and Perry saw his men 
swept by the terrible deluge of cannon-balls, like 
chaff before the v/ind. But he was as cool as a vet- 
eran, running everywhere, helping his men to train 
the guns, or more properly gun, since but one could 
be handled on deck, so hot was the fire from Barclay. 

"Signal Close Action" shouted Perry, as he ran 
forward, stepping gingerly over the mutilated bodies 
and debris. He realized that unless something inter- 
vened at once, the battle was lost as far as the flag- 
ship was concerned. "Set the sails!" was the next 
command. Meantime, marines stationed in the 
"Detroit's" tops, were constantly picking off Perry's 
gunners: and to attempt to handle the tangled rig- 
ging in the face of such a fire, was almost madness. 
But Perry was desperate. Presently the "Law- 
rence's" tattered sails began to pull, the helm was 
put over as she tried to close with her adversary: 
but Barclay must have anticipated the manoeuver, 
for he broadsided again, and the "Lawrence's" fore- 
mast went over with a crash, taking every vestige of 
standing rigging; she was now a helpless wreck, 
with just fourteen men alive, including Perry's four- 
teen-year-old brother, who acted as pov/der-monkey, 
and faced the awful carnage like an old salt. The 
flag fell on deck, and Barclay ceased firing, thinking 
the American Commodore had surrendered. In the 

68 



THE STRONTIUM CRYSTAL. 

lull, Perry ordered the long-boat manned, and soon 
they were speeding over the water toward the 
"Niagara." 

About this time, Barclay discovered the true state 
of affairs, and ordered his men to concentrate their 
fire on the long-boat. Shot and shell fairly rained 
around Perry and his brave seamen, but he passed 
on miraculously unhurt, boarded the "Niagara", and 
hoisted his flag. As yet this ship had sustained very 
little damage, and Perry bore down the whole Brit- 
ish line, broadsiding right and left. Getting in close 
to the "Detroit", he poured forth a hot deluge of iron. 

Barclay was somewhat taken aback by this sud- 
den change of affairs, and his surprise turned to 
despair when his guns became disabled, and two- 
thirds of his men lay on the bloody decks, either 
dead or wounded. In manosuvering for a position, 
the "Detroit" had fouled the "Queen Charlotte", and 
Perry, taking advantage of this mishap, poured two 
terrible broadsides into the tangled ships. That vol- 
ley practically decided the battle, and it is claimed 
that in less than eight minutes after reaching the 
"Niagara", Perry had won the fight. Be this as it 
may, the British Admiral, having absolutely no sound 
men to fight his guns, was compelled to surrender to 
an enemy whom he thought vanquished. 

As the smoke lifted, it revealed the awful carnage 
of war; the two fleets commingled, shattered, 
wrecked. 

Perry returned to the "Lawrence's" bloody deck, 
and received the surrender, magnanimously return- 
ing Barclay's sword, with a compliment. After an 

69 



THE STRONTIUM CRYSTAL, 

inspection, it was decided to burn the "Lawrence", 
as she was well-nigh in a sinking condition. 

The dead and wounded were transferred to the 
"Niagara," and at 5:30 Perry himself applied the 
torch to the doomed vessel. The fleets returned to 
Put-in-Bay with 200 prisoners in the holds. That 
evening they buried the bloody dead on shore in a 
huge pit some three rods back. A silvery moon rode 
high in the heavens and the scene was one none 
could forget, as the gray-haired chaplain read the 
short burial service in the presence of the assembled 
crews. Perry stood by his side, and held a lantern, 
which cast yellow reflections on their ruddy faces. 
Beyond, in a widening circle, the remainders of the 
crews waited in a solemn hush; their bandaged 
heads bowed in an attitude of sadness. 

Kemble, whose arm was paining him exceedingly, 
had to remain in his bunk, much to his disgust; but 
the ordeal was less trying because of the compan- 
ionship of Captain Barclay, who was severely 
wounded. This estimable officer, though vanquished 
and disgraced, suffering intense pain, did nor seem 
to be disheartened, and Kemble decided that a truer 
gentleman he had not met in many a day. 

Sitting in his cabin that night, Perry wrote by the 
light of a slush lamp his famous message, "We have 
met the enemy, and they are ours;" and great was 
the rejoicing in Gen. Harrison's camp upon its 
receipt. 

The surgeon had found the bone of Kemble's arm 
slightly shattered, and expressed the opinion that it 
would not heal readily without a period of rest. The 

70 



THE STRONTIUM CRYSTAL. 

next day th© Lieutenant was taken suddenly deliri- 
ous, and blood-poison developed. There being no 
accommodations on board for the sick, it was decided 
to send him to Fort Niagara on a furlough. One of 
the captured vessels carrying the prisoners and 
wounded, departed next day with Perry and Kemble, 
accompanied by Gen. Harrison. 

The Commodore was very grave as he superin- 
tended the transfer of Kemble's stretcher to the 
sloop, for in the short time they had been thrown 
together, he had become very much attached to his 
able subaltern, the Lieutenant being his senior by 
about three years; and Perry was wont to turn to 
him for assistance in solving many serious problems. 

On Bass Island, the brilliant greens of summer 
were now turning to Autumn's melancholy brown, 
and the day was dark and gloomy with low hanging 
clouds. Lake Erie's stormy tantrum was beginning 
to be manifest, for the water was a dirty gray in 
color, chopped by heavy swells running white-capped 
and sullen, as the departing sloop passed away to 
the eastward; the "Niagara" fired a parting salute 
from her ten-pounders, and the autumn haze swal- 
lowed up the outgoing craft, leaving the fleet to its 
destiny; but it was as the loss of a master wheel — • 
the life and spirit went away in the sloop, and what 
remained was the lifeless clay. 

Lieutenant Kemble was worn to a shadow and in 
a stupor, when they landed him at Erie, thence tak- 
ing him by slow stages to Fort Niagara. 

* ^ ilf ^ Hfi iti ^ 

The day was drawing to a close at the stockade, 

71 



THE STRONTIUM CRYSTAL. 

and as the sun went to rest behind a sooty bank of 
clouds, the sentinel on the ramparts drew his heavy 
coat more closely around his throat: for a bluster- 
ing, chilling wind swept the corner of the parapet. 

A deep boom, followed by a white sulphurous 
cloud which was flecked leeward by the roistering 
gale, reverberated through the air from the firing of 
the sunset gun at Fort Niagara, and an observer 
might have seen the flag descend jerkily to the 
ground; soon the gloom of early winter's evening 
would shroud the town in darkness. 

Down in the barrack a very pale, emaciated young 
man was lying on a cot, bolstered up on pillows; 
while a plump damsel of twenty-five or thereabouts, 
dressed in large-figured calicoes and a nurse's apron 
of the whitest linen, bustled to and fro with bottles 
of medicine and spoons. Presently a large, rough- 
looking man, wearing green glasses, made his 
appearance, and seated himself beside the patient, 
taking a thin wrist in each of his heavy hands. The 
comely nurse stood close by, anxiously awaiting the 
doctor's verdict. 

"Well, Dolly," the doctor said, (he always called 
her by a pet name) "I guess he will pull through, but 
he must be very quiet; you must not talk to him 
today nor tomorrow, remember, quiet is the word." 

It would have warmed your heart to see the 
pleased expression on her face, and the rich red 
blood mount to her rounded cheeks. The patient, 
though in a half-stupor — heard, and smiled a wan 
smile, too. 

"And his arm, Doctor, do you think you can save 

72 



THE STRONTIUM CRYSTAL. 

it?" was her eager query, as the physician was pre- 
paring to depart, after some minutes. 

Standing with one hand on the door, bundled up 
to his ears in a great-coat, the rough old surgeon 
looked anything but a professional man, and gentle- 
ness was not one of his every-day traits; but he 
patted her cheek, and smiled knowingly. "Yes, 
Dolly, I think I shall be able to pull the chap out 
with a very good pair of arms, at least I'll try,"— 
and he was gone. 

Alice St. Clare, for it was she, returned to the cot, 
and pressed a caress on the fevered brow of the 
unconscious sufferer. 

The next morning, the surgeon did not call until 
a late hour; and as Alice was busying herself about 
the barrack-room, tidying the place, she was sur- 
prised to hear her name spoken, in almost a whis- 
per. Quickly she turned, and clasped Kemble's 
hand, while he studied her a moment through half- 
opened eyes. "Thank God," he said faintly, "it is 

Alice." 

"Where am I, dear?" was his next effort of 

speech. 

"You are at Niagara, Claude, and the doctor says 
you must not talk." Suiting the action to the word, 
Alice playfully placed a slim hand over his mouth, 
and Kemble dropped into a refreshing slumber. 

But he did talk, in due season— at any rate the 
Dominie was called in at an early date, and we have 
his word that the favors were numerous and costly: 
for Alice St. Clare since early childhood had been 
the favorite of officers and men alike at the Fort. 

73 



THE STRONTIUM CRYSTAL. 

Among the presents which she proudly displayed 
in the main room of the barracks, was a beautiful 
miniature of a full-rigged fighting frigate, complete 
to the figurehead even, carved very ingeniously 
from the snow-white quartz rock — and the tag there- 
on read thus: "To my honored and trusted Lieuten- 
ant, Claude Kemble, from his late Commodore, 
Oliver Hazelton Perry. May your lives be one long 
sweet song of prosperity and happiness." 



74 



My Closest Shave* 

BOONESVILLE is a small burg somewhere on 
the quaint old St. Joseph river up in Michi- 
gan; and it has been the same little burg 
for fifty years, with never a spasm of booming such 
as some towns are wont to experience. Indeed, with 
reasonable care, it bids fair to remain the same 
insignificant, gossiping, dog-infested, brawling, God- 
forsaken little village, for a hundred years to come. 
Somebody has said that Boonesville, being on the old 
state road, was the first town in the county. If this 
be so, it should hang its head with shame; for 
instead of progressing, it has retroceded. 

But the quiet, slow-flowing old St. Joe, winding 
through meadow and woodland, offers no resistance 
to the rushes and cat-tails, as they grow rank and 
tall down by the bridge. So easy is the current, that 
not even the ancient mill-dam, rotten with age, is 
tried to confine the waters. 

Somehow, you wonder why I should tease you 
with scenes so commonplace and rural. The locality 
has a history, however, which gains interest each 
year, as the seasons come and go ; and if you should 
pass that way some beautiful mid-summer day, 
pause, and if the spirit moves, throw in your well- 
baited line over there beyond the bridge where the 
gigantic green willows throw black shadows cool and 
refreshing across the pond, and the chances are ten 

75 



MY CLOSEST SHAVE. 

to one that before long you'll sense a tug on the 
pole, and your bobber will suddenly start for the 
bottom. Then, if you are dextrous, a flopping, scaly 
denizen of the depths will land on the green sward 
beside the big rock, and a four-pound carp will 
reward your skill. 

That carp, neighbor, may be a hundred, but the 
chances are he is at least fifty years of age, and that 
scar on his gills may be the identical marks of Capt. 
Carter's hook, left when the latter's line broke. 
The Captain will tell you about it for the asking, 
also tell you that it happened just fifty years ago, 
the twenty-fifth of July. 

Captain Carter can tell you a good many more of 
his reminiscences, as he has told me in days gone 
past; but I think he is just beyond the big elm, and 
if I mistake not, is pretty busy with the rod and line, 
so we'll not bother him just now. 

Last summer the Captain went down to Philadel- 
phia to visit his only son, whom he hadn't seen in 
twenty years; and as a kind of compliment before 
starting, visited the barber and was shorn of a luxu- 
riant crop of whiskers. He told the tonsorial artist 
to "slick 'em up good", as he wanted to look "like 
them city fellers"; and the result was so much 
belter than he had anticipated, that a few straggling 
gray hairs which the Captain had carefully nursed 
for months, went by the board also, and he emerged 
from the shop looking like Mr. Pipp. 

Upon returning home, he was greeted with horse- 
laughs innumerable, and the madder he got the 
more they chaffed and jeered. 

76 



MY CLOSEST SHAVE. 

"Why, Grandpa, you look so funny, I can't help 
it," said little Marguerite, aged five. "You look jus' 
like a 'ittle teeny boy what's growed up to a man 
over night." 

And he did look so comical, that the postmaster, 
Ezekiel Butts, asked him why the barber hadn't 
taken his head and left the whiskers, all of which 
didn't tend to increase the Captain's good humor. 
"Speaking of shaves," the Captain soliloquized, 
"puts me in mind that the closest shave I ever expe- 
rienced wasf down at City Point, Virginny, way back 
in '64." 

"Tell us about it," said I. 

"Sure, give us the yarn. Dad," chorused the boys, 
gathering around the old "vet." 

Nothing loath, he resumed his favorite chair 
in front of the post-office, and related the fol- 
lowing: 

"On the morning of August 9, 1864, the sun came 
up red and glaring at our camp on the Appomattox 
river, which we had established some three months 
before. We were at Broadway Landing, where we 
had laid two pontoon bridges. Between the Appo- 
mattox and James rivers, Ben Butler's army was 
lying. Officers and privates chafed and fretted at 
the heat, and longed for some diversion which 
would vary the monotony of camp life. Several of 
the boys, including myself and Corporal Wasson, 
besought the Colonel for a pass to City Point, some 
five miles down the James river, as it was rumored 
that Gen. Grant and his staff were quartered there, 
and anything in the nature of excitement, which 

77 



MY CLOSEST SHAVE. 

might be looked for when the Engineer Corps was 
not on duty, was indeed welcome. 

"Captain Pickering, very liberal with his passes 
that day, gave his consent. Accordingly several 
pontoon boats were rafted together, and the captain 
of a Government tug lying near was persuaded to 
give us a tow, which he did with some reluctance. 
The tug was not a greyhound at best, and when drag- 
ging a whole pontoon train, her progress was more 
in keeping with the lowly snail; but finally she got 
under way and did herself proud, arriving at City 
Point at 10:30 A. M., where we unloaded at the dock. 
Most of the boys quickly scaled the high bluff some 
distance back, but myself and Corporal Wasson were 
much interested in the operation of unloading ammu- 
nition, which was being carried on at the wharf not 
far from where we had landed. 

"Several schooners tied up there were being light- 
ened of powder and shells, principally by negro 
stevedores. Those fellows were certainly the limit 
for dare-devils. While we were used to facing 
dangers and hardships, it was nerve-racking to us 
to see the perfect sang froid with which those long- 
shoremen handled the big 12-inch shells. Wasson 
remarked that he would feel much safer if he were 
sitting on a keg of powder smoking a Havana, and 
I concurred with him heartily, suggesting that we 
retire to the top of the bluff. 

"Tiring at last of the novelty of the thing, we 
passed on up the street. Not having had the ser- 
vices of a tonsorial artist for several weeks, I medi- 
tatively pulled my tangled locks, and proposed that 

78 



MY CLOSEST SHAVE. 

we get a haircut. We entered a long, low building 
of flimsy construction, which might have been a 
tobacco-warehouse in its youth, but now was some- 
what dilapidated. Here we found the barbers busy 
on various types of hirsute adornments. Wasson got 
his haircut first, and while waiting for me wandered 
about the shop, making comments; and his eye fell 
on an ancient coffee-mill fastened to the wall. Of 
course here was a chance for a pun. As Wasson 
slowly turned the handle, he chaffed the barber 
about 'grinding out his taxes,' etc. 

"Very fortunately for me, the barber had just laid 
down his shears and was preparing some lather, 
when there was a terrible report. The chair upon 
which I was reclining turned sidewise, flipping me to 
the floor as neatly as you please. The walls seemed 
to rock and tremble, and collapsed like an egg-shell. 
Windows were shattered into a thousand pieces. I 
remembered the big mirror into which I had been 
gazing, and wondered if the debris would sever my 
jugular, for I knew it was upon my neck. My last 
impression of Wasson was his exit through a window, 
head first, coffee-mill and all; the barbers ran in all 
directions. 

"When we came together again, we were outside 
in the street, with no recollection of how we got 
there. The^ air was darkened with dust and debris, 
and ammuniti.on-wagons, drawn by frightened mules, 
some of them sorely wounded, were flying by as if 
blown by the concussion. One wagon, which I 
noticed particularly, was drawn by a pair of large 
mules, and they were running for dear life; in the 

79 



MY CLOSEST SHAVE. 

bottom of the box clung the most thoroughly fright- 
ened negro I ever saw. His face was as gray as 
ashes, notwithstanding his ebony skin. To my last 
day I shall never forget the expression on that fel- 
low's face; he was literally scared to death. 

"Wasson was completely dazed, and his first ques- 
tion was, 'Are you hurt?' I told him 'No.' 'What 
in God's name has happened?' said he. My first 
thought was for our safety. 'Let's get out of this,' 
said I. 

"Our faculties began to return, and I remarked 
that those shells had probably done the business. 
The whole impact of the explosion seemed to be 
from the wharf, and all was over in less than a min- 
ute and a half. 

"Gradually we picked our way back, stepping over 
fragments of wagons, v/reckage of buildings, dead 
horses, dead negroes, etc. Passing the barber shop, 
we noticed our colored barber lying under the ruins. 
The poor fellow had been struck by a falling beam, 
which killed him instantly; the building was a com- 
plete wreck, and how v/e had escaped death was a 
mystery. Still further down the street, we came to 
a little dooryard that had been resplendent with 
flower-beds, but was now a sad wreck. Near the 
door lay the owner, sprawled on the grass, with the 
brains oozing from a ragged wound in his head. 

"Arriving at the edge of the bluff, the sight that 
met our gaze was heart-rending. The schooners 
which had contained shells were completely obliter- 
ated, and two others in the offing were said to be 
loaded with the same, and liable to be blown to 

80 



MY CLOSEST SHAVE. 

atoms any moment. The guard ordered us back at 
once, saying he expected to be in purgatory directly 
should the other ammunition-boats be touched off. 
We took the hint without any urging, and 'legged it* 
for about a mile back into the country. 

"After waiting about two hours, and nothing doing, 
we decided to return. The dock where we had pre- 
viously stood, was gone, nothing remaining but skel- 
eton timbers pinned to the piles. Numerous frag- 
ments of bodies were scattered about promiscuously, 
together with mutilated mules, pieces of shells, and 
shells entire; some of them even then were smok- 
ing. Soldiers were detailed to pick up the wounded 
and bury the dead, of which latter there were 108. 

"Well, we went back up the James, registering 
a solemn vow to wipe out the Confederacy as an 
atonement for that murder; but the nearest we ever 
got to it was when we had the satisfaction, about 
three months later, of seeing that arch rebel, Capt. 
John Maxwell, pay the penalty on the scaffold." 

"Supper's ready. Grandpa," came little Margue- 
rite's lisping childish voice across the common. 

"So long, boys," said the Captain. "Tell you 
about the mine at Fort Donelson some day." 



81 



The Sign of The Mogi- 

4 4 "^ T EP, as I was saying, those 'Dagoes' are 
\^ queer ones," mused old Twonik, as he 
carefully deposited a cascade of tobacco- 
juice in the corner, and proceeded to replenish the 
stock in his mouth with another quarter-section of 
plug. Twonik was now about to begin on the drain 
notice, which contained approximately three galleys 
nonpareil, but he paused, with stick uplifted, as if 
he meant to brain somebody, which really was a 
favorite attitude with him when about to begin a rat- 
tling good "yarn." 

"By the way, Johnson, did I ever tell you about 
the little Eyetalian who worked on the Daily San- 
script when I was down in New Orleens?" Mean- 
time Twonik glanced apprehensively at the office- 
door before settling on a comfortable stool, for the 
"boys" knew the signs were right for a good story, 
and gathered around expectantly. 

Twonik turned to the office-boy rather prema- 
turely, saying, "See here, kid, you run over and take 
a peek into the sanctorium and let me know if the 
boss is out." 

Jimmy did as he was bidden, not forgetting to 
turn the key in the composing-room door as he 
returned. Twonik, feeling sure the coast was clear, 
shifted his "cud", and launched forth as follows: 

"While I was employed on the Sanscript, the boss 
experienced many difficulties, in getting good comps, 

82 



THE SIGN OF THE MOGI. 

which probably explains why I was trying to learn 
the art preservative at that particular time and place. 
Most of the printers of that time were devotees of 
Bacchus — ^so much so, that to find a good comp who 
would remain strictly sober for a fortnight — was like 
picking pearls from oyster-beds, only a durned sight 
more rare ; and the boss, after many weary attempts 
to reform his help, decided to purchase a linotype, 
a machine practically unknown tOi the trade at that 
time, but used extensively by the big New York dail- 
ies, and manufactured by a firm there. 

"Of course all hands were fairly beside them- 
selves with curiosity concerning the new machine, 
even the foreman, Jerry Bedino, getting the microbe 
into his system. Every man in the shop talked of 
nothing else during the day, and probably if they had 
nightmares it was all laid to the same cause. To be 
plain with you, it became a regular 'bogy' with the 
force. 

"At last the much-mooted question was settled by 
the arrival of the new 'contraption'; also the expert 
who was to install it and act as operator, for a time 
at least. In due season the machine was uncrated 
and assembled, and such an array of levers, cams, 
gears and sprockets as then rose before our aston- 
ished eyes was a stunner — a combination of cunning 
ingenuity worthy of Satan himself. The expert 
gravely informed us that when his linotype was once 
in commission, he could set more ems in a day than 
the whole bloomin' outfit; whereat a loud laugh was 
raised at his expense. In fact we all took our turn 
in guying him: so that, when a week had elapsed, 

83 



THE SIGN OF THE MOGI. 

and the machine positively refused to work, because 
of some misplaced part, the ridicule we heaped upon 
the operator's defenceless head would have caused 
the wooden Indian im front of the cigar-store to for- 
sake his pedestal, and tomahawk every mother's son 
of us. But through it all, the expert kept sweet; 
and finally got his machine working, and then, how 
he kicked out the shining slugs! 

"Things traveled along pretty smoothly after that 
on the Sanscript; but one night, the expert, true to 
his early training, got gloriously drunk, and coming 
in at 8:30 p. m., tried to run out his 'take', but he 
might as well have tried to brush the cobwebs off the 
moon, for the influence of his potations hung like a 
fog over a marsh. After jamming his machine two 
or three times, he seemed to realize the hopeless- 
ness of it all, and faded — that is, he retired to the 
back room, where the boss found him an hour later 
lying on the floor, thoroughly 'corned'. "Well, it hap- 
pened that we were able to loan a goodly number of 
comps in times of need to other offices, and so the 
compliment was returned that night; but we worked 
pretty hard on that edition, and she looked mighty 
nifty when she came out — sixteen columns of news, 
all hand-set. I hardly need to tell you that Mr. 
Expert was in a condition which lasted four days, at 
the end of v/hich time he was duly and unceremoni- 
ously 'canned': and he didn't care a little bit about 
it at that, inasmuch as he had been very sore on the 
foreman for a long time back, and the feeling was 
reciprocated. 

"Well, to get down to business, the new linotype 

84 



THE SIGN OF THE MOGI. 

had to stand idle for several weeks, as no common 
printer could operate a machine in those days; and 
none wanted to try any stunts with the new 'contrap- 
tion'. Meanwhile the boss fumed and swore — but 
what of it? 

"One day, as he was blaspheming in monotones 
at a piece of badly-written copy, and the proof- 
reader was jacking up his assistant strenuously — in 
fact the whole front office seemed to be resting on 
the edge of a volcano ready to erupt at any moment — 
softly the front door opened, and a little brown man 
stepped into the sanctum. His oily greeting, 'Good 
day. Monsieur,' was hardly noticed by the irate pro- 
prietor, who, swearing still more savagely, glared at 
the aforesaid copy and suddenly jammed it onto the 
file with the motion of a gladiator about to deliver 
the coup-de-grace. When he finally did look, he was 
surprised to find before him a short, thick-set, dark 
little chap, whose olive skin and curly black hair 
plainly indicated his Eastern nativity. His eyes 
were as black as his hair, and they seemed to take 
in the whole office at a single glance. Withal, he 
was a perfect picture of your fruit-dealer just around 
the corner, but vastly more intelligent, and his face 
was really superb, had it not been for an ugly mark 
across the right temple, which looked like the scar 
from a saber-cut. 

"In answer to the boss's questions, he replied, in 
halting broken English, that he was from New York 
City, and had learned the linotype from start to 
finish. He had heard that the Sanscript desired an 
operator, so there he was! * 

85 



THE SIGN OF THE MOGL 

*'A11 queries in regard to his former work he 
adroitly parried, and the upshot of the matter was 
he was hired forthwith to take the place of the dis- 
charged expert. The boss thought he looked capa- 
ble, and anything that knew a shooting-stick from a 
hatchet was welcome at that particular time. The 
next morning found us all rather skeptical about the 
new man, and the foreman intimated to some of the 
boys that if the forunner, as he called him, stayed 
two days, it would be a hoodoo on the whole force. 
The boys didn't seem to take kindly to the rara avis; 
in fact they froze stiff right from the beginning. 

"The new operator worked like a Trojan, but 
that wasn't all the passport he needed to the good- 
will of the foreman. 

"It was one of the iron-clad rules of the office, that 
any man who could not stand at least one bottle of 
Vernor's best before the evening resume of work, 
was a mollycoddle, and no mollycoddles would be 
tolerated for three days by Jerry Bedino. The new- 
comer did exactly the opposite: he positively refused 
to drink, on any provocation, stood aloof at tlie noon 
hour, and did not enter into conversation beyond a 
few monosyllables; though he proved himself a very 
good listener. Each time when the bottle was passed 
he declined — and it was obvious at once that he had 
violated the hospitality of the force, and to this day 
I can see the dark scowling face of the foreman, who 
was of French descent, leering at the foreigner, who 
apparently cared no more for Jerry's good-will than 
he did that of the office cat. 

"However, things progressed thusly for several 

86 



THE SIGN OF THE MOGL 

weeks, with no open hostility; for the new opera- 
tor was certainly a lightning-artist on the machine, 
and the cleanness of his galleys brought radiant 
smiles upon the face of the proof-reader. He did 
not seem to mind the snubs of the printers in the 
least, but calmly pursued his daily routine with a 
sang froid characteristic of the Oriental. 

"At that time I was a kid, eighteen years old or 
thereabouts; and to me the stranger was an enigma. 
I could not help admiring his genteel ways, his neat- 
ness of dress, and particularly the heavy seal rings, 
of which he wore three on his left forefinger. In 
addition to these, his waistcoat was ornamented with 
a chain of wonderful workmanship, carved from 
ivory, in a quaint Eastern pattern of intricate design. 

"From the chain dangled a charm of the most deli- 
cate coral I had ever seen, and upon this trinket my 
attention was centered more than anything else. It 
was carved in the form of a heathen god, so perfect 
in execution that even the veins in the hands were 
distinguishable. 

"Just like any other boy, as soon as we were 
acquainted, I began to question him about New York, 
and I learned what neither the boss nor others could, 
viz.: that New York was not his home at all; that 
he had only been there six years, and that he was 
by birth an' Arabian of the desert, but had traveled 
pretty extensively over the continent — in fact, he 
told me, confidentially of course, enough to indicate 
that he was a man with a history — but when he 
offered to instruct me on the machine, I was simply 
delighted; thenceforth we were the best of friends. 

87 



THE SIGN OF THE MOGI. 

"The Sanscript generally went to press at four 
o'clock in the morning, and the big rotaries usually 
turned out the whole edition in two hours, (barring 
accidents,) and it was customary for the printers to 
spend the few remaining hours till daylight very 
much as they chose; and many a' tramp about the 
city's great underworld did we take. The Arabian 
told me his name was Massini, a word which would 
slide off, the Creole tongue as easy and natural as a 
darky would slide off the levee. Together we visited 
the all-night dance-halls and cafes of Bienville and 
Iberville streets. Massini was a nervous person 
when on the street, and seemed to be continually on 
the alert, as though he suspected someone was fol- 
lowing. He constantly turned to look over his shoul- 
der. Furthermore, I noticed that when we went into 
a cafe, Massini always seated himself facing the 
door, even going so far as to ask an old gentleman 
(very courteously of course) to vacate a seat because 
of this. I was so young and inexperienced, that 
these peculiar doings did not bother me in the least — 
indeed if I noticed them at all I probably attributed 
them to the fact that Massini was an Oriental — and 
being an Oriental meant anything or everything radi- 
cally different. 

"This sort of life continued for four years; I was 
becoming an expert operator as well as a good com- 
positor, and when Massini was absent or indisposed, 
as frequently happened, I could take his place at the 
machine without any shortcomings. 

"One morning Massini failed to appear, and the 
boss was somewhat indignant; for the linotype had 

88 



THE SIGN OF THE MOGI. 

been bothering considerably of late, which was 
attributed, I suppose, to my inexperience in handling. 
The office-boy was dispatched post-haste to the cheap 
rooming-house where Massini claimed to be staying, 
away over in the poorer residence district. Nothing 
could be learned of Massini, and the garrulous land- 
lady could recollect no such man among her list of 
boarders. The boy returned, after two hours' fruit- 
less search, and the mystery thickened. 

"All that day I fretted and fumed over the blank- 
ety-blanked bundle of springs, cams, levers and 
wheels, which wouldn't work at all, and at 5:00 p. m. 
gave up in despair. Coming back at the usual hour, 
I, was surprised to find Massini at the keyboard, and 
still more surprised at his general appearance. His 
face was drawn, eyes sunken and shifty— taken alto- 
gether, his looks were those of a man in the last 
stages of general debility. Nerve, which he pos- 
sessed usually in large quantities, had forsaken him 
completely, and his hand shook like an aspen. 

"When I accosted him with my usual cordial greet- 
ing, he seemed not to hear, and all through the even- 
ing'his remarks were limited to the merest common- 
place. This change in his demeanor was not noticed 
by others, because no one but myself ever had any- 
thing to do with Massini. He finished his 'take* at 
1 1 :30 that evening, and hung about my case until I 
took the last item from the hook, whereat I was 
beginning to doubt his sanity— he looked so strange. 
I fancied I had seen the same look in the eyes of the 
hunted wolves up in my father's big woods, when we 
and the dogs had cornered them. 

89 



THE SIGN OF THE MOGI. 

"Thinking to cheer the fellow, I suggested we take 
a little whirl around the town to Navarro's theatre, 
where La Belle Mirzona was billed for the week, 
with her all-star troupe. After some time at Navar- 
ro's, we adjourned to the near-by cafe, and, as usual, 
Massini seated himself at a table in the extreme 
corner of the room opposite the door, and I like- 
wise. Presently he seemed to warm up, under the 
aromatic influence of a Havana cigar, and I thought 
he smiled at one of my quips; but the smile faded 
so suddenly, it set me staring. Simultaneously his 
face blanched white, his eyes fairly popped from his 
head, and nervous tremors passed through his entire 
body, as he gazed at the entrance. Quickly I turned 
to learn the cause, and saw a heavy-set figure with 
cap drawn over his face, roughly dressed and with 
that peculiar rolling gait, such as I had noticed 
among the foreign! sailors at the levees. 

" 'Who is that man?' I asked. Massini had by this 
time regained his composure, and answered noncha- 
lantly that he didn't know; but he had thought at 
first sight that the strange man was his long-lost 
brother, and that; was why it frightened him so, he 
explained. After a while we made our exit, and 
went home: but I thought Massini's voice sounded 
queer when I bade him 'good-night,' and he grasped 
me convulsively by the hand, at 1 :00 a. m., on the 
corner of Bienville. 

"Next morning I arose early, and repaired toward 
the shop : because I had a little job which I wished 
to complete before the arrival of the boss. Passing 
around to the rear door, which we always left un- 

90 



THE SIGN OF THE MOGI. 

locked, I was surprised at the disturbed condition of 
the damp soil near the step. It looked as if a dozen 
men had engaged in a rough-and-tumble combat, 
and left their footprints. Here and there were little 
red spots, which I took to be red ink, but the funniest 
part of it all was, that the numerous tracks had all 
been made by just two pairs of shoes of vastly dif- 
ferent make. One was the print of a common, light 
shoe, such as I myself wore; the other was made by 
a rather large stogy sole, but its shape was altogether 
different, being broad and rather wider at the toe 
than at the instep; and the bottom was studded with 
great hob-nails set in a peculiar zig-zag pattern. 
Where had I seen that identical pattern before? 
Massini's ivatch-chain had the same motif exactly, 
and you can bet I was getting interested. 

"I passed into the composing-room, and, Holy St. 
Patrick! what a sight! Tied securely to the stool 
before the machine in a sitting posture was the body 
of Massini, entirely nude above the waist, and cov- 
ered with blood which had congealed thereon; the 
head was lolled back as though looking at something 
above; the mouth was wide open, as also were the 
eyes, fixed with a stony, glassy stare. Blood was 
everywhere; on the machine, on the floor, and even 
the ceiling was bespattered. On the left temple of 
the corpse was carved a Maltese cross as neatly as 
you please ; and both back and breast were mottled 
with strange devices like tattooing, worked out with 
a knife of razor-like sharpness; for the cuts were 
clean, and only extended through the skin. 

"For several moments I was too horrified to move, 

91 



THE SIGN OF THE MOGI. 

and it required a gigantic effort to stop the clatter 
of my teeth; but my next impulse was obeyed 
explicitly, and I brought up breathless at the police 
station, not five rods distant, where I collapsed like 
an over-ripe pumpkin, but managed to give them an 
inkling. 

"They lost no time in getting the ghastly thing to 
the morgue; and by this time the whole force had 
arrived. Of course I was the hero, and they plied 
me with questions galore ; but I presume my answers 
were far from enlightening. The 'devil' was set at 
the task of cleaning up, while I glanced over the 
machine for the first time, and was surprised to find 
a few slugs had been run out 20 ems long, but the 
machine was jammed. I quickly tied up the metal, 
and proved it, and it read like this — (I lost the origi- 
nal proof through the offices of a compositor with 
sticky fingers some tv/o years ago, but I have an 
exact duplicate of it now.)" 

Twonik handed out a much-folded sheet of greasy 
paper, and the boys jostled each other to get a good 
view, while he continued: 

"You will notice the disconnected characters at 
the beginning. Well, probably Massini had some 
trouble in getting the machine started, inasmuch as 
he was being forced to do it, and it is more than 
probable that he was weak from the loss of blood. 
Once started, the machine quickly moulded his 
death-warrant. 

"Read it, Johnson." 

Johnson adjusted his glasses, and read as 
follows : 

92 



THE SIGN OF THE MOGL 

XX XXX awxts XXxXxXxXxXtholsrde 

InmbvfrsdfghKL 

GREETING ? TO MY FELLOW WORKERS. 



"I am not, as you suppose, an Italian, but 1 am a 
native of the Arabian deserts. The curse of the Mogi 
is upon my head, and I must die. Even now the exe- 
cutioner stands ready to give the finishing stroke. 

"At the age of nineteen years, I came to Cairo, 
Egypt, where I joined the order of the Red Hand. 
I secured employment in the bazaar of Effendi 
Haidju. There I met the pretty daughter of a rich 
restauranter, and fell hopelessly into the net of her 
winning smiles and soulful eyes. But my love was 
not reciprocated, and one night I caught her in com- 
pany with another young clerk, drinking gayly at a 
cafe; I nursed my jealousy, and watched. Soon I 
saw them leave the cafe; thence along the dark 
streets, I followed, with murder in my heart. I slew 
them both, with the trusty knife which is as silent 
as the foot of time. 

"Her father was a member of! the Mogi, and he 
has followed me relentlessly for twenty years. I 
came to New York disguised as a fruit-dealer, and 
hoped to escape the edict of the death-sentence, but 
in vain. You know the rest. Farewell; I who am 
about to die, salute you.'' 

Johnson handed back the paper with a subdued 
expression, and Twonik resumed his composition, 
while the stentorian tones of the boss could be heard 
from the front office bawling hoarsely: "Cut it out, 
you fellows in there, and gQt busy." 

93 



A Reminiscence of Other Days^ 

To the voyager who may for a day's outing 
betake himself down the Detroit river from 
the state's metropolis, and tarry among the 
islands studded like emeralds at the mouth of this 
broad stream, no regrets will be forthcoming if! he 
should chance to visit Bois Blanc. This beautiful 
little island, lying on the border between His Maj- 
esty, King George's domains and the United States, 
cannot fail to interest the most prosaic on a mid- 
summer day, and especially the old block-house 
which has remained intact to be handed down as 
a priceless heirloom to such as are historically 
inclined. 

'Tis a warm day in the month of August, and the 
broad deep river (Detroit) is gently ruffled by an 
ethereal breeze scarcely perceptible, yet amply suf- 
ficient to render the bosom of the water a sparkling 
mass of ripples, scintillating in the sun*s rays not 
unlike a great diamond deftly set by a gigantic hand 
in the living green of a summer landscape. 

My boat is newly painted, and the scorching heat 
of approaching midday seems to fry the oil and blis- 
ter its white surface, while I slowly ply the oars, 
pausing occasionally to glance over my shoulder at 
the approaching steamer, "Milton D. Ward", bound 
for Toledo or Buffalo, with a party of jubilant pleas- 
ure-seekers. The "Ward" seems to be headed directly 

94 



A REMINISCENCE OF OTHER DAYS. 

for my boat: but this fact does not frighten me in 
the least, as I know the ways of these river captains. 
Presently two short blasts of the deep-throated whis- 
tle admonish mei that I must keep clear of the big 
craft, and so with a dozen sturdy strokes I pull aside 
while she scuds by with great commotion about her 
wheels, and the ripping hissing sounds of a sharp 
prow cutting the glassy swells, playing an accom- 
paniment to the rush and roar of inside machinery. 
From the orchestra on the forward deck come 
sweetly across the water the stirring strains of "Blue 
Danube", growing fainter and fainter still as the 
steamer is hull-down on the blue waves of the 
open lake — rolling and tossing with an endless pro- 
cession of white-capped swells. But I must hasten; 
already the noon hour is near at hand, and "Old 
Sol's" rays fall scarcely aslant of the green rows of 
rustling corn ashore, where the moist brown soil is 
being stirred by the cultivator, and occasionally I 
hear the broad vernacular of the farmer, as he 
guides his faithful horse back and forth — ^dreaming 
perhaps of golden harvests. 

Pulling my boat upon the sandy beach, I secure 
the painter to the projecting root of a scraggly birch, 
and make my way toward the old time-scarred build- 
ing which, in the early days of North-west Territory, 
was a bone of contention between the British sol- 
diery and hostile Indian tribes, mostly Potawatomies 
and Miamis. 

Notwithstanding the lapse of 150 years or there- 
abouts since its erection, the old block-house seems 
to-day as solid and substantial as when first com- 

95 



A REMINISCENCE OF OTHER DAYS. 

pleted; so well-preserved are the "shakes" or split 
shingles upon the roof, that the hardest rains fail to 
penetrate. The walls are built of square-hewn logs, 
dovetailed together at the corners, presenting a very- 
finished appearance; and the whole is surmounted 
by a hip-roof with a sort of cupola or lookout-window 
in the form of a double dormer. The foundation or 
first story is perhaps eight feet high ; above this the 
second story projects over some three feet on all 
sides, and is probably ten feet high to the eaves. At 
a convenient height from the second floor, are loop- 
holes between the logs — merely slits — to accommo- 
date a gun-barrel, and extending entirely around the 
four sides, commanding every approach, and making 
a very defensive structure, considering the needs of 
those early days. Entering the bullet-scarred door- 
way, long since devoid of shutter, I mount a rude 
ladder to an upper room, thence to the lookout win- 
dow. From this elevated position I have a broad 
view of Lake Erie; far down in the southeast quar- 
ter, a faint smudge on the horizon shows the path 
of some outbound barge; southeast by south, a rap- 
idly-growing object with black hull and rakish masts 
indicates the approach of a steam-yacht. Seating 
myself on the roughl sill of the opposite window, I 
fall into a brown study. 'Tis high noon; not long 
since the farmer must have turned out of the furrow 
and stabled his faithful horse ; the monotonous hum- 
ming of bees outside, mingled with the distant bel- 
lowing of steamboat sirens, lulls me to drowsiness; 
I dream. * * * * i thought I was in the large 
room below; a roaring fire in the great fireplace 

96 



A REMINISCENCE OF OTHER DAYS. 

seemed to light the room but feebly, and weird shad- 
ows were cast upon the walls by the sudden leaps 
of flame curling 'round the sturdy oak back-log, 
responsive to fitful blasts of Autumn winds which 
essayed to reach down the wide chimney with smoky 
arms, and grasp great handfuls of glowing sparks, 
hurling them pell-mell up its great throat. 

The scene was enlivened by inmates of the room; 
red-coated British soldiery, great burly fellows, with 
tall caps and ruddy faces. Some lounged on the 
rough benches before the fire, smoking their pipes 
as calmly as though they were not besieged by a 
band of over five hundred Indians of the Ottawa 
tribe, under the leadership of the artful Pontiac; 
but such was the situation. Ever and anon in the 
pauses of the night-wind, could be heard the shrill 
cries of the war-dance. An Indian camp was located 
on the north end of the island, and all through the 
night the savage dance went on unceasingly; while 
from his perch in the lookout, genial Lieutenant 
O'Leary could discern occasional flickers of light 
like coals gleaming through the dense foliage; these 
were the council-fires of Pontiac. 

Dimly through the mist of years, I saw that little 
besieged band as distinctly as I now see the trees 
and refreshing grass; I saw Captain McDonald for 
the fifth time refill his pipe and resume his seat by 
the fireside, after cautioning the Lieutenant to be 
watchful lest some redskin in the darkness outside 
should creep stealthily from the shadows of the sur- 
rounding trees and ignite the dry grass and weeds, 
which during the preceding summer had grown rank 

97 



A REMINISCENCE OF OTHER DAYS. 

and tall about the little fort; for well they knew the 
treacherous nature of the foes. 

"Miark well the stumps, Lieutenant, and see to 
it that none of them hare movable," were his 
final instructions to his second in command, as he 
descended the ladder for the fifth time. 

The captain deftly raked a coal from the fire, 
placed it in his pipe, and resumed his narrative of 
Braddock's defeat, telling how with his own kerchief 
he had tried to bind up the ghastly wound in the 
General's side; how the bullets had cut the air 
about them like leaden rain, and well-nigh demoral- 
ized the whole army; how the ambush became a 
defeat and the defeat a rout: — throwing the respon- 
sibility entirely upon the broad shoulders of that 
husky young woodsman. Colonel George Washing- 
ton, who had three horses shot and several holes in 
his coat before he gave the order to retreat. 

*Tas sir, hinguns his something hi've seen ha 
good deal hof hin my day," he said, "but that little 
scrimmage with the pesky reds was habout the 
worst hi hever hexperienced, hand hi tell you 
men the sight hof hour poor fellows lying there 
hall mutilated hand bloody, hevery mother's son 
hof them minus 'is scalp, was hunnerving to say 
the least. Hevery tree by the roadside seemed to 
'ide han hingun, hand those further back three or 
four. Mighty small has my love his for the Colo- 
nials, s'elp me Gawd, hi believe hi speak the truth 
when hi say that Braddock might 'ave been halive 
to-day (peace to 'is hashes), hif 'e 'ad taken the 
hadvice hof Colonel Washington." 

98 



A REMINISCENCE OF OTHER DAYS. 

After delivering himself of the above rich cock- 
ney brogue, he lapsed into a moody silence, broken 
only by fierce pulls at his long pipe and the crack- 
ling in the fireplace. Presently again he hailed the 
lookout. " His hall well. Lieutenant?" "I am not 
sure" was the reply, and with a bound McDonald 
was beside him. "Captain, do you catch that shadow 
near the big stump there, and one over there and 
there?" said O'Leary, who was a well-bred young 
Irishman, with eyes as keen as an eagle's. McDonald 
watched the shadow for a full minute, and he fan- 
cied it moved. Both men held muskets on their 
knees; both took deliberate aim, and fired simulta- 
neously. For the duration of three minutes, nothing 
but echoes woke the stillness. The wind had lulled; 
the expected death-cry did not come. O'Leary 
laughed rather sarcastically, while the soldiers 
crowded under the lookout and jocosely chaffed 
their officers for wasting powder. 

Suddenly their merriment was interrupted by a 
pandemonium of yells which seemed to come from 
all quarters of the forest, blending into the pro- 
longed war-whoop of the blood-thirsty Ottawa — ^and 
the long-expected battle was at last a reality. With 
some confusion, the men snatched muskets and 
powder-horns, rushing to their posts; but nothing 
could be seen through the narrow ports. The spite- 
ful crack of rifles, followed by the dull thud of bullets 
burying themselves in the spongy logs, kept the gar- 
rison's nerves on a raw edge for perhaps two hours, 
then gradually died out; and all was quiet again 
save the dismal hoot of an owl somewhere in the 

99 



A REMINISCENCE OF OTHER DAYS. 

trees outside. Taking stock of his casualties, Capt. 
McDonald found two of his men had been slightly 
pinked in the arms by half-spent bullets which had 
strayed through the ports; beyond that nothing of 
consequence. 

The scene changed: — I thought 'twas early sum- 
mer; the white man and Indian were at peace. 
Several red-coated Britishers were being entertained 
by a group of warriors playing ball some thirty yards 
from the block-house, while beside the door sat Cap- 
tain McDonald: who occasionally addressed himself 
to his Chiefship, Pontiac, reclining on the bosom of 
mother earth, a few feet away, leisurely smoking. 

Suddenly the ball was given an exceedingly hard 
rap, and soared high over the heads of the braves, 
coming right down at the captain's feet, who good- 
naturedly stooped to pick it up, not seeing the 
stealthy redskin who followed; but he did see the 
shadow of an outstretched arm on the ground — a 
fraction of a second too late. 

With a sickening thud the tomahawk crashed into 
his brain. In the twinkling of an eye it seemed 
every Indian had armed himself with a tomahawk 
snatched from beneath his blanket. The astonished 
soldiers leaped to their feet, and tried to reach the 
door, but the Indians were too quick for them; they 
had already secured most of the muskets, which had 
been carelessly left inside. Seeing the fruitlessness 
of getting inside, the soldiers stampeded like fright- 
ened deer for the shore, where a boat was in wait- 
ing; again the Indians were forehanded — only two 
whites gaining the boat and pushing off pell mell, 

100 



A REMINISCENCE OF OTHER DAYS. 

pursued by twenty bullets, which found the mark ere 
they had gone fifteen strokes. 

Again the scene changed: — Far up the river I 
fancied I saw an approaching long-boat manned by 
British soldiers, the squad apparently in command of 
a fine-looking young officer, who stood in the bow 
shading his eyes with his hand against the blinding 
glare of the sun upon the water, and gazing anx- 
iously at the wooded shores of Bois Blanc, but see- 
ing no sign of life; a naked storm-beaten tree tow- 
ered high above its fellows like some giant spectator 
of the tragedy which had been enacted. Soon the 
long-boat rounded a little point, and came in full 
view of the block-house. The officer hailed — send- 
ing his voice clear as a bell, but his cry broke on 
the still air like the sudden report of a musket, and 
the echoes were the only reply as they chased each 
other to and from the silent shores, and seemed to 
lose themselves at last in the high bluffs at the 
north end of the island. The door of the stockade 
gaped wide open, but no familiar form emerged 
from its portals. Strange conjectures were passing 
in the minds of the men, and each read in the others* 
faces forebodings of a calamity. As the boat's keel 
grated on the sands, they ascended the steep bluff 
to th$ block-house, and as the officer sprang nimbly 
through the underbrush, his toe caught on some obsta- 
cle, nearly tripping him down. Impatient at delay, 
he administered a spiteful kick — and a human skull 
was dislodged and rolled away down the hill! 

The whole party were now standing in the open 
expanse : and what a sight met their eyes ! At inter- 

101 



A REMINISCENCE OF OTHER DAYS. 

vals of perhaps ten yards around a semi-circle farth- 
est from the fort, large stakes were set deep in the 
ground — for a purpose; each stake bore a skeleton 
in various states of preservation — some blackened, 
others weather-beaten and glistening white in the 
summer sun, while the long-since charred and black- 
ened embers told only too plainly how the victims 
met their fate at the hands of the treacherous 
Pontiac. 

For some minutes the brave officer and his men, 
hardened though they were to scenes of carnage, 
could scarce restrain the scalding tears as they stood 
there with bowed heads; then every man's good 
right arm was upraised, and I caught their voices in 
unison, "This murder shall be avenged, though it 
costs every drop of blood in, our veins." 

Then a misty light came over the scene, and it 
faded like a mirage. The spell is broken and I 
awake; the roaring whistle of a distant steamer 
fully recalls my senses. Surely my position is an 
uncomfortable one, and my head aches from contact 
with the rough sill. My watch indicates 7:15. 
Great Caesar, what a nap I have taken! 

The red-hot sun is just touching the western 
horizon, as I launch the boat and pull far out on the 
rolling river, nightly watched by the soft radiant eye 
of Bois Blanc light. 



102 



iZfl£. 



One copy del. to Cat. Div. 



FEB 8 1&12 



